Strangers in the Night
by BittyAB18
Summary: On her 26th birthday, Beca Mitchell is dared by one of her best friends to give a relationship a chance, but there's a catch: they can't "go all the way" for three months. Enter Jesse Swanson. While Beca is struggling with keeping the dare a secret, Jesse is struggling to keep his own secret. Will their secrets ruin them before they really even start? Rated M. On hiatus
1. Chapter 1 - Birthday Blues

**Strangers in the Night**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect**_** Story**

**Chapter 1: **

**Birthday Blues**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: The title comes from the Frank Sinatra song, which inspired this story. I originally started it with the intention that it was going to be a one-shot, but as I began writing it, I realized that it would wind up being an excessively long one-shot, or it would make a cute short story. I don't know exactly how many chapters it is going to be. It's AU, and Beca might seem a little OOC, but not by much. This story will very much be inspired by the song lyrics, but it will be well beyond them, too. This features only a small number of the PP family and a number of author-created characters. I'm stealing Beca's workplace from MFH, but this is **_**NOT **_**a part of that story in anyway. I just can't be creative and come up with the name of another record label at the moment. I hope you like it. It's got a fun twist ahead, and I think you'll all LOL when you read it. ;)**

* * *

_Friday, April 19, 2013_

Today was Beca Mitchell's twenty-sixth birthday, and her best friends were taking her out to get "ass over head drunk." They were Stacie's words when she texted early that morning as Beca was getting ready for work, but the petite brunette had no idea what that even meant. The girls were going to meet for dinner first, because Aubrey, the kill-joy that she is, insisted that they all got something to eat first. Stacie called her a lame-ass, but Chloe had come to Aubrey's defense, saying that the dinner made sense, because then they could drink for longer, so Stacie begrudgingly agreed. Beca went straight home after work to change before a night of debauchery with her three best friends, rather than spending her usual half-hour flirting with the hot security guard in the lobby of Wharton Records. His name was Julio, and he was built like a Greek god. In fact, in one of her many flirt sessions with Julio, she had learned that he was half-Greek and half-Spanish, so he was tan with the sexiest dark eyes and hair. He was fucking gorgeous, which is why she took the time to flirt with him on her way out of work every day. She never let it go any farther than that, though, because he worked at her office, and how awkward would it be if she fucked the building's night shift security guy? It's not like it would be anything more than a fling (but, _my God_, would it be a great fling), and that would just make it uncomfortable with everyone involved. She gave him a smile, a wave, and a quick, "see you tomorrow, Julio" before she rushed out the door.

Once she got back to her apartment, a "cute" (Chloe's words) one-bedroom that was in Santa Monica, about a half-hour drive from Wharton's stomping grounds, as well as all of the usual places that Beca and the girls frequented, she slammed the door shut behind her and dropping her large black purse by door. As she strode to her bedroom, she stripped off her shirt and then proceeded to unbutton her jean shorts. Once in her room, she dropped the shirt in the hamper, finished stripping off her shorts, and then tore her underwear off, tossing all three garments into the hamper on top of the shirt. She brushed through her hair, pulling it into a messy bun on top of her head, and walked naked into the bathroom to start her shower. She then walked back into her bedroom, yanking the door to her closet open, rummaging through her clothes to find the perfect outfit for the night. She didn't normally wear dresses, but she knew that Chloe and Stacie would make a remark about how she was never going to get laid if she continued to dress like a lumberjack (she liked to wear a lot of plaid), and Aubrey would tell her that she looked like a lesbian, which pissed Beca off a lot. She liked lesbians; they were cool people, and just because Beca liked to wear not so feminine clothing didn't mean that she was automatically a lesbian, nor did it mean that for any other woman who didn't like looking like she stepped out of Stepford (_God, that was the worst movie ever_; it was the actual reason for why she stopped watching movies, not that she liked watching them much before seeing _the Stepford Wives_ remake, but still—it was totally all Nicole Kidman and Matthew Broderick's fault), which is the style that Aubrey generally adhered to, or like a slut, which was Stacie's style _all_ the time and Chloe's style _most_ of the time. So, in order to avoid hearing all of that bullshit, Beca was going to wear a dress. She settled on a fire-engine red dress that was strapless and fell mid-thigh. It had a loose skirt with a fitted bust that she was told by Chloe when they went shopping one day that it made her boobs look great. She paired the dress with a pair of black strappy heels (she didn't own many heels, but she liked this pair). Once she dropped the dress and the shoes on her bed, she made her way back to her bathroom, pulling the hair tie out of her hair and tossing it onto the counter before she climbed into the shower.

Two and a half hours later, Beca, Stacie, Chloe, and Aubrey climbed out of a cab outside of the club they usually hit when they had a night on the town. They smiled to the bouncer, a huge black man by the name of Tiny (yes, his name tag read Tiny, and it was ironic); Tiny let them through the door without having to wait in line, much to the irritation of the rest of the people waiting. After the four of them found a table, Chloe and Stacie made their way to the bar, using their boobs and skintight dresses (and Beca uses that term loosely, because it looked like both of them were wearing teddies—although, with Stacie, that wouldn't surprise Beca one bit), to get cheaper drinks. "So, how has your birthday been so far, Beca?" Aubrey asked her while they waited for the other girls to get back to their table. Beca shrugged, wrapping a brown lock around her finger.

"It was okay, I guess." She responded, making her blonde friend frown.

"What's wrong?" Aubrey asked her, laying a hand on Beca's forearm.

"Nothing..." She stretched the word out, rolling her eyes. Aubrey didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her, making the brunette squirm with discomfort. "Nothing, Aubs. I'm just…I'm twenty-six years old, you know. I woke up today, and I realized what day it was. I thought to myself, is this it? Don't get me wrong, Aubs, I love spending time with you girls, and we all know I love alcohol, but I'm just….I don't know…" She trailed off, thinking about how none of that even made sense.

"I get it." Aubrey said after a moment, making Beca look at her in surprise. The blonde smiled warmly at Beca, twisting the glittering gold rings around her ring finger on her left hand. "You've reached that point in your life where everything is going right, and it seems like it is totally perfect, you know. It seems like you have everything you've always wanted—you're living in LA, you've got great friends, and you've got your dream job as a producer. But, you're bored."

"I'm not bored. Believe me, nothing about my job or this city or having you girls, especially Stacie, as my best friends is boring." Beca said, shaking her head.

"Okay, bored isn't the right word, but you are feeling pretty damn ambivalent. I mean, everything is so perfect, but something's missing, right? You woke up today, on your birthday, the day that is reminding you that you are one more year closer to death—I know, morose thought, but it's true—and you're thinking, is this all there is in life? Do I really have everything that I want? Now that all of your dreams have come true, now you want something more." Beca's jaw twitched, because she hated it when Aubrey was right. She did feel like she reached the top of the stairs, and now there was nowhere else to go. Sure, she could always make more music and make a bigger name for herself, but that wasn't really moving forward—or up, to continue with her stairs analogy.

"So, say you're right. Say I've reached a standstill, and I've all of the dreams that I thought that I wanted—LA and being a producer—what's next? What should be my next dream, then?"

"A boyfriend?" Aubrey suggested, making Beca groan and drop her head onto the table.

"God, you're like a walking excuse for the oppression of women, Aubrey." Beca said into the tabletop. "You're putting back feminism sixty years."

"Oh, shut up, Beca. I'm not saying that you need a man to be happy."

"Um, I think you are."

"No, I know for a fact that you can be happy without a man, as a single woman, but I think that you secretly want someone to share your life with. I think you look at how I am with Josh and how Chloe is with Evan, and you realize that you could_ like_ that. I'm not saying that the whole husband, one-point-eight children, or whatever that statistic is, the white picket fence, and a family dog thing is you…at all. Frankly, I think I would die of shock if you ever told me that you were getting married or were pregnant, but I think you have finally grown up enough to realize the whole sleeping around thing isn't _fun_ anymore. Stacie still has her head in her ass and thinks with nothing but her vagina, but you're different. You're smarter." Beca rolled her eyes, because she knew that Aubrey didn't mean book smarts, because Stacie was the smartest of them all and was actually in medical school at USC.

"Exactly. I'm smarter. I know that marriage is bullshit, no offense. I know that it doesn't work, no offense. I just…I'm not dumb enough to think that there is a happily ever after for people. Again, no offense." Aubrey sighed, breathing heavily out of her nose, because her lips were pinched tight. She took a deep breath before she spoke to Beca.

"You're right that there is no such thing as the happily ever after that movies or books or television likes to portray." Aubrey said, pausing again to run a hand through her blonde hair. "It's _hard work_. Like, really _fucking hard_ work." Beca's eyebrows rose, because Aubrey hardly ever cursed. "Josh and I work at it _every day_. I'm sure as hell not happy twenty-four-seven. Actually, I think about eighteen out of twenty-four hours of the day, I want to kill him."

"Then, why are you together?"

"Because those other six hours are spectacular and amazing and wonderful and fun and invigorating and splendid and whatever other great adjective you want to add there. Because I _love _him. Because he makes me feel like I'm the most important and best thing in his life, even when things suck between us. Does that make any sense?"

Beca nodded her head. She did get that. Aubrey complained a lot about her husband, Josh, when the four of them hung out together and on the phone to Beca in the evenings on the days that they didn't see each other, but when Beca was around the two of them, she saw how much they both loved each other. Even when Aubrey looked like she wanted to strangle Josh, she would give him this look that showed how much she _didn't_ want it any other way. It was in those moments that Beca thought that it could be nice…to be in love. She didn't think that it was for her, though. She was a lone wolf. She was the kind of girl who spent all of her time focused on her work and occasionally hanging with her friends. Music was her whole world, and when she wasn't working, she was making her own mixes of random songs that she thought sounded good together. She was married to her music.

"Drinks!" Chloe cheered as she and Stacie arrived, setting down four drinks onto the table. Aubrey grabbed her fruity pink cocktail, sucking a cherry into her mouth and chewing it slowly as she watched Beca; the brunette grabbed her beer, taking a sip of it, staring off into space as she thought about her shitty childhood, watching her parents fight constantly over money, her father's job as a professor, Beca's maternal grandmother, where to live, where to go on family vacations—everything. Then, suddenly, the fighting stopped. Two and a half weeks later, her dad moved out—like really _moved out_ as in not only out of the house, but out of Pennsylvania, accepting a job in Atlanta, Georgia at Barden University. Beca spent the next six years with just her mother, refusing to see her father, because he left her, especially after he began dating and later married the she-beast that is her step-monster, Sheila. "What's with the sourpuss, Birthday Girl?" Chloe asked, making Beca jump. She glanced up, seeing that all three of them were staring at her. She grimaced, taking another sip of her beer.

"I'm fine."

"Beca's bored of her life." Aubrey said, earning a glare from the petite brunette, which the blonde ignored. "She's achieved everything that she thought she wanted, and now she can't figure out what she wants next. I told her that I think she wants to fall in love."

"I told Aubrey that's she a dumbass and that I don't need a man to be happy." Beca snapped.

"I agree. I get totally bored when I sleep with the same guy twice." Stacie said, taking a sip of her own cocktail. "I mean, he's a hunter. He's not going to let me be tied down to one penis. Or to a penis at all. Sometimes a girl needs some lady-kisses." Beca rolled her eyes at her slutty friend.

"Well, I think you should _totally_ get a boyfriend! Then, you could come to my wedding with him!" Chloe said, clapping her hands. "That way, you won't have to take your asshole boss with you."

"Luke's not an asshole." Beca scoffed.

"He's hot and British. I'd fuck him." Stacie said, grinning lecherously as she thought of Beca's boss. "Have you fucked him yet? Do you care if I do?"

"No, I haven't fucked him, and you're not going to, either. I don't need things to be awkward as fuck at work, okay!?" Stacie pouted at Beca over the rim of her drink glass. "What's wrong with bringing Luke to the wedding? He already said he would go with me, if I wanted a friendly face there."

"Because weddings are romantic and fun when you're with someone you care about, not some hot guy that you're not going to let yourself have sex with. Or, at least you're pretending like you won't screw him, even though we all know that you will and make things beyond awkward for you at work." Chloe said, sipping her rum and coke.

"Fine, I will go to the wedding stag, then." Chloe glared at her.

"You will _not_ mess up my seating at the reception. A blank spot will ruin everything." Okay, Bridezilla Chloe was kind of scary, Beca thought.

"Relax. Drink your rum and coke." Beca told her. The redhead glared at her a little bit longer before her eyes softened.

"I know you're afraid of getting hurt, Beca, but you're only going to wind up hurting yourself by not giving yourself a chance to find love. Stacie's had boyfriends before…she's a sex addict, though, so she can't stop fucking other people." Stacie nodded her head, muttering something like 'that's true' into her drink. "I think you should give dating a try. I'm not saying you have to marry the guy, but don't bail the day after you have sex with him for the first time. Actually try _dating_ him for a bit longer. Just give it a chance."

"Please, Beca's worse than I am when it comes to commitment," Stacie scoffed. "The second the orgasm is done, she's ready to move on, because it makes her feel a little _too much_. She's probably better off _not_ having sex with the dude." Stacie meant it as a joke, but Beca groaned when she saw Aubrey's face light up. She grinned, which was rather ominous in Beca's opinion.

"That's a great idea, Stacie!" The taller brunette shook her head at Aubrey.

"I didn't mean that she actually doesn't have sex with the guy! That's _torture_."

"Oh, c'mon, not having sex with someone for awhile isn't that bad. It could be really good for you. Like Stacie said, you get all freaked out the second you get vulnerable with someone, and really, what's more vulnerable than having sex with someone?" Aubrey said. She looked at Chloe for help. "Chlo, tell them how much better sex with Evan got after you were exclusive. And, then again after you guys said you loved each other."

"That's totally true. Sex was great when he and I were first dating, but it got better after we decided to only see each other. Then, when we said that we loved each other, it was like…I don't know. It was really awesome. Then, sex after getting engaged…hottest it's ever been for me. _Seriously_." Chloe told Beca.

"And sex after marriage is even better than that." Aubrey supplied.

"Dude! No. No engagement. No marriage. No fucking way I'm going out and searching for a boyfriend. This is all ridiculous." Beca pointed her index finger at Aubrey. "You're fucking insane if you think that's happening."

"Beca, give it a shot. Try dating someone. You might find that you like sharing your life with another person. I'm not saying you won't be happy if you're single, but I'm saying that you might be even happier if you had someone else to share your life with. Someone to go home to every day after work. Someone to hold you when you have a bad day. Someone to complain about your parents to. Someone to make you smile and laugh."

"Um, I have all that with you three." Beca said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, before Chloe started seeing Evan exclusively, she spent almost every night at my apartment and in my bed. Bitch knows I hate cuddling." Chloe winked, finishing off the last of her drink.

"I get cold at night." Chloe told her.

"Yeah, but this person you get to kiss and have sex." Aubrey told her, ignoring Chloe's comment.

"If I really wanted to have sex with any one of you, I probably could. Evan and Josh would be totally cool with it." Beca took a big gulp of her beer. "Stacie's come onto me before, so I know I could definitely have sex with her if I wanted to."

"I prefer dick, but I'm down for some lady-loving anytime you want it, Beca." Stacie told her, also finishing off her drink.

"Uggh, you know what I mean, Beca." Aubrey said.

"No way."

"I dare you!" Beca stared at her blonde friend. Seriously, she was daring her? "I dare you to date someone. I also dare you to not go all the way with them for three months—if you were to meet him tonight, for example, you'd have to wait until at least July nineteenth before you two have sex."

"You're kidding, right? 'Go all the way?' What are you, a twelve year old girl, or a ninety-five year old woman? Who says that?" Beca said at the same time that Chloe said, "Seriously, Aubrey? You're gonna make her wait ninety days?"

"Ninety-one days." Stacie said, and all three of them turned to look at her. "What? It's ninety-one days. May has thirty-one days in it. Do some math, guys." Beca shook her head and then returned her gaze to Aubrey.

"You're fucking insane if you think I'm going to start dating someone and then not have sex for ninety-_one_ days."

"So, you're not going to accept the dare. You know what that means?" Aubrey said, crossing her arms. She smirked at Beca. "That means that you know I'm right, that you want something more than just being a single girl whose whole world revolves around her job. That means that you're afraid of actually feeling something and giving a relationship a shot. That means that you're too chicken to actually give it a chance. That also means that you know as well as I do that you're too weak to go without sex for that long."

Beca glared at Aubrey. She was beyond pissed with her. "If I can't have sex for three months, neither can you." She said, making the blonde squirm with discomfort and embarrassment. "Yeah, you know as well as I do that it is utter bullshit to expect me to go without sex. You can't even follow that part of your own dare. Who's weak now?"

"It's not that…I totally would go through with that part of the dare if you would go through with all of it…" Aubrey sighed, chugging the last of her drink. "It's just that…we've decided to start trying to have a baby."

"Really?" All three girls looked at the blonde in shock. "Shit, if you get knocked up, that means that you're gonna be fat in your bridesmaid's dress!" Aubrey glared at Chloe, who blushed. "You know what I mean! I will have to change the concept of the dress!"

"Or, you could just assign us a certain color and type of fabric, and we all wear a dress that flatters our body types. Mix-matched bridal parties are in." Stacie told her.

"Oh, that is a really good idea!" Chloe grinned excitedly. "I get final approval for all dresses, though, because you would pick something horrendously slutty." She pointed at Stacie who winked.

"So, this dare…are you going to do it?" Stacie asked Beca.

"Nope. I'm not going three months without sex unless someone else does it, too."

"Well, I'm trying to get pregnant, so I'm out." Aubrey said.

"Um, hi, _he_ won't let me go three months without sex." Stacie responded, pointing to her lower half, which was hidden beneath the table. The three girls turned to look at Chloe.

"What!? No freaking way!" Chloe shook her head, her red hair flying and smacking her in the face. "Evan and I aren't going to stop having sex just because Beca's a wimp."

"Hey! I'm not a wimp! I just can't believe you three are expecting me to do this, and none of you are willing to try it."

"I'm engaged. I'm planning a rather stressful wedding, and the best way to get Evan to agree to what I want has been with sex, which is also a fantastic stress reliever for me. There is no way in hell that I'm giving up sex."

"Chloe, just do it. Three months…just imagine how fantastic it is gonna be when you finally do have sex again. It will be like the ultimate foreplay of trying to hold off an orgasm for as long as possible." Aubrey said.

"Uggh!" Chloe dropped her head onto the tabletop. After a few moments of her groaning into the table, she lifted her head again. "When we say no sex, what does that mean?"

"Oh, good question!" Stacie said, her eyes twinkling.

"I can't go without _all_ sex for the next three months. My fiancé would kill me and break up with me. I can't be a jilted bride!"

"He's not going to break up with you," Aubrey sighed, shaking her head. "Fine, we will break it down." She pulled her phone out and pulled up the notes app. She began typing into the phone. "Chloe is allowed to have sex with Evan until you find someone to go out with. Both of you are also allowed to masturbate all you want throughout the dare." Aubrey glanced between Beca and Chloe, who both nodded, deciding that sounded fair. "Starting the day of your first date, you have to wait two weeks before there is any above the belt touching." Chloe groaned.

"Two weeks without Evan being allowed to touch my boobs? That fucking sucks!"

"Shut up, Chloe." Aubrey told her. "No shirt removal for you, either." Chloe shook her head.

"No way. I'm not going to let my fiancé grab my boob like a high school kid trying to hookup with his girlfriend while her parents are home and needs to be prepared to get off her at a moment's notice."

"Fine, no bra removal, then. And, that means no mouth on the breasts, either." Aubrey said, making the necessary adjustments. "You then have to wait one month before any below the belt touching is allowed to occur." She said, typing on her phone, mumbling as she typed.

"That means no dry-humping, either!" Stacie added in, making Aubrey grin and type faster, adding that stipulation, whereas Chloe and Beca glared at her for 'helping.'

"Right, no rubbing your lower halves against the other person's. You're only allowed to _touch_ his penis."

"Evan loves it when put my finger up there while I jerk him off or blow him." Beca and Aubrey looked at Chloe in horror, but Stacie just pulled a nail file out of her purse and began filing her nails.

"She's talking about stimulating the prostate, which gives the guy a really powerful orgasm. It's like the G-spot for a girl." Stacie said matter-of-factly. "Why do you think gay guys like being on the receiving end of anal sex so much?"

"Anyways…" Aubrey said, shaking her head. "Back to the below the belt stipulation, he is only allowed to touch you between your legs…or your butt?" She looked at Chloe, who grimaced at that.

"No way. That is a no-no zone for me." The redhead shook her head. "Yuck."

"Anal sex is pretty great. You guys should try it." Stacie said, not looking up from her nail file. "So, I think we've got it. No dry-sex, just mutual hand jobs and getting fingered during the below the belt fun. Moving on."

"Right, so you guys have to wait until the eight week mark for that part." Aubrey said, typing.

"Clothed or naked?" Chloe asked.

"Um, clothed? We wouldn't want it to accidentally go in at all." Beca started laughing then, because this whole thing was completely ridiculous. Chloe, Stacie, and Aubrey joined her within moments.

"This is ridiculous. This guy I'm supposed to date is gonna be allowed to see my crotch when he fingers me after eight weeks of dating, but then he has to wait two weeks before he's allowed to rub his dick against me _and _we have to put my underwear back on again in order to do it? Maybe we should put that part in ahead of hand jobs and fingering, as Stacie so elegantly put it, because it's kind of stupid to do it the other way."

"Fine." Aubrey fumbled slightly with her phone, deleting everything but the two-week above the belt rule.

"Also, you may as well throw out the bra, thing, as well. Evan's seen Chloe naked since their first date. It's gonna be weird if she wears a bra when he's touching her boobs. It's bad enough that you're making it fingers only on the boobs." Beca said. "And, the mouth on boobs thing should be allowed in when the dry-humping is allowed in." Aubrey sighed.

"Fine!" She began typing into her phone. "The revised version of this so far is as follows: at the two week mark, you guys are allowed to be completely topless with the guys, hands-only on the boobs. Then, you have to wait another two weeks before you're allowed to rub against each other, bottom halves fully-clothed. At this four week mark, you also allowed to have mouths involved with the breast touching." Aubrey glared at Beca and Chloe. "Does that work for you both?"

"Yup," they said at the same time.

"You guys have to wait another month before the mutual masturbation stuff. The stipulation here is that you have to keep underwear on while giving and receiving." Chloe and Beca exchanged a look, before shrugging at Aubrey.

"If we must…"

"Okay, at the ten week mark, you guys are allowed to have oral sex." Aubrey said, typing. "This means that you guys are allowed to be completely naked with the person now, but no intercourse—vaginal or…_anal_…if you're into that kind of thing," she said as she glanced at Stacie, who smirked, shoving her nail file back into her purse.

"It's a lot of fun…especially when you have your period."

"Thank God I'm on that three month birth control pill." Chloe said, shaking her head. "I will totally take an extra month before I let my period come just so that I can have sex with Evan at the end of this bet."

"Yeah, I agree…" Beca said, gulping the last of her beer.

"Okay, we have finally reached the twelve week mark. All forms of penetration are now allowed. Not only that, you will know that when the penetration actually happens, he will respect you and value you and care about you—maybe even love you," Aubrey laughed, making the other three grimace at her use of the word penetration.

"Seriously, there is no good time to use the word penetration." Beca spat, shivering with disgust. Aubrey rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm emailing the rules to you both now."

"How can I be sure that Chloe is following orders?" Beca said.

"Believe me, you'll _know_ that Evan and I aren't having sex," Chloe grumbled, crossing her arms.

"Good point. Chloe get's annoying when she has her period and can't have sex with Evan. Going three months without being _penetrated_ will be even worse." Stacie said, earning another grimace from Beca and Chloe. She giggled. "I never realized how much fun it is to say the word 'penetrate.'"

"Stop." Beca said, holding up a hand. "I need another drink before someone says that word again."

"Me, too! I also need to get home and fuck my fiancé until I have to go to work again on Monday morning." Chloe said, standing up. "To the bar!" She said, marching off, with Stacie following.

"You know you're fucking insane, right?" Beca said to Aubrey, who shrugged her shoulders.

"This'll be fun, Beca. You'll see."

"Not really, Aubrey."

"Seriously, Beca? What is the worst thing that could happen? You find a guy that you _actually like_?"

"Or, he could realize that he's not getting laid and dumps my ass, thus solidifying my view that relationships suck ass."

"Fine, you mention during the first date that you want to take things slow. See what he says. If he seems fine with it, then you're good to go. If he seems uncomfortable with it, you dump him and move on to someone else. If he starts to pressure you to have sex, you can have sex with him, if you want, but then you don't date him anymore, and we start over with someone else. Unless you actually like him, and then the bet is over, because I will have won and you will have found a boyfriend." Beca groaned, shaking her head.

"Why did I agree to this?"

"Because you thought that no one would agree to go without sex as long as you were going without sex." Beca flipped Aubrey off. She hated when the blonde was right, especially several times throughout one night. Bitch.

"God, I need another drink," she groaned, making Aubrey chuckle.

"Happy fishing, Beca. You'll find a good catch. I have faith." Beca gave the blonde an incredulous look.

"You're such a dumbass." A few minutes later, the other girls arrived with a new round of drinks, ending all conversation about the bet. This was turning out to be the weirdest birthday of Beca's life.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, what do you all think of the first chapter? I really shouldn't be starting yet another PP story, but I couldn't help it! I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but I'm excited to write it. It's going to get a T+ rating for language until some…sexier…moments start to happen in the later chapters. For all of my MFH fans, please don't worry—I will still be working on it!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Exchanging Glances

**Strangers in the Night**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Chapter 2: Exchanging Glances**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: Chapter 2! The title comes from the first line of **_**Strangers in the Night**_**. Enjoy. Ramona White is one of my author-created characters. She will not have a huge place in the story, but she does help Beca and Jesse to meet.  
**

* * *

_Saturday, April 20, 2013_

Ramona White was a pop-country hopeful. With her twangy Oakie accent, she told Beca that she wanted to be the next Taylor Swift as they sat at a table and sipped their drinks in the bar-restaurant combo in the first floor of the hotel where Ramona was staying in. Except, she wasn't the blonde, blue-eyed Pennsylvania-born turned Nashville native pop-country singer. She was short, with frizzy black hair, thick-rimmed glasses, carried about thirty pounds of something extra around her middle, and a hook of a nose with a mole on the tip that reminded Beca of the Wicked Witch from _The Wizard of Oz_. Ramona had the voice of an angel, though, and she wrote stellar songs, which is why Luke had assigned Beca the task to meet with the Oklahoma girl at her hotel after he listened to one of the CDs that she had sent in the mail to Wharton Records.

Beca had to hold back her laughter when she first saw the awkward looking girl walk into the lounge, wearing a pair of jean shorts, cowboy boots, and a plaid button-up that was unbuttoned over a white tank top. Her frizzy hair was in a knot on the back of her head, and she pushed her glasses further up her nose as she glanced around the lounge for the assistant producer at Wharton Records. Beca had been sitting at a table, waiting for the arrival of the potential client, going over the pitch in her head. They knew that Ramona had probably sent out a bunch of CDs to a bunch of recording companies in LA, New York City, Nashville, et cetera, and the second that Luke heard the music, he contacted her, set her up in a swanky hotel, and sent his "best man" to acquire the nineteen year old girl to their label. Luke knew talent when he heard it, and he _wanted_ Ramona. Beca knew success when she saw it, and right now, looking at this awkward teenager, she _didn't _see it. Yeah, Ramona could sing, but her appearance left a lot to be desired. The nose, mole and all, the glasses, and the frizzy hair—none of that would sell, unfortunately; people in this business would destroy Ramona before she even got the chance to start. Beca discreetly raised her phone and snapped a picture of the girl, texting it to Luke. Within thirty seconds, Luke texted back two words: _fix it_. Well, shit. How in the hell was she supposed to do that? She sighed. All of Chloe Beale's fashion expertise and the best makeup artist and hair stylist in the world, also known as Aubrey Posen-Martin, wouldn't be able to salvage something from this. Right? She sent the picture of the girl to both Aubrey and Chloe with only one word to caption it: _help_? Within a minute, she received a text from both of them, saying that they could make an attempt and that there was probably something to work with. Beca nodded her head. Time to get to work.

She stood up, waving the confused girl over to her. "Miss White?" The girl looked Beca up and down, her brow furrowing momentarily in confusion as she took in Beca's appearance. Beca knew that she didn't look like what people would expect of a producer: she had earrings lining the entire length of both of her ears, including two spiky gauges (small ones—she wasn't into having two holes the size of dimes in her earlobes like some people); her eyes were lined with heavy, dark eye makeup; she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black tank top, showing off many of her six tattoos; she also sported a pair of black motorcycle boots (she didn't own a bike though). Her hair was in a messy ponytail on the back of her head, and there was a jack and coke on the table in front of her, along with opened folder, stuffed thick with a contract, color-coded charts of sales estimates, diagrams for album covers, a schedule of open times to get into the recording studio, and the list goes on. There was a reason why she was the best producer Luke had on the staff. She acquired the most talent, too, because she was prepared, good at what she did, and knew how to bullshit and ass-kiss with the best of them. Ramona made a hesitant step towards Beca, and then another. Soon enough, the frumpy teenager was standing in front of Beca, ringing her hands in front of her. Beca held her hand out to the girl, who took it limply in hers, shook it quickly twice, and then dropped it as if it burned her. Shit, not only did Beca have to work on this chick's look, but she'd also have to work on the girl's confidence and attitude (as in, she needed to develop one, along with a thick-skin) if she wanted to make it in this business. "I'm Beca Mitchell. I'm a producer at Wharton Records."

"Hi." The girl whispered. Beca sighed, because she totally had her work cut out for her.

"Take a seat." Beca waved to the chair opposite the one she had been sitting in. She sat down and took a sip of her drink, raising a hand to call a waiter over. She barely glanced at the kid, looking to Ramona for her drink order. "What'll it be?"

"Um, just a pop, please. Coke or Pepsi's fine." The waiter took Ramona's soda order. Beca smiled at the girl, who continued to look like she was trying not to throw up.

"Ramona, I know you're nervous about this meeting. I need you to understand something. You _wouldn't be here_ if we didn't think you have a huge amount of talent and the ability to go far in this business. So, tell me a little bit more about your sound. Who are your favorite artists? What kind of music do you want to produce?"

So, Ramona started talking. She talked about her inspiration that came from Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, and a smattering of other female country singers. She talked about how she had her heartbroken by her high school sweetheart—the boy who inspired most of her songs. Apparently, he dumped her for a pretty girl that said she was Ramona's friend but really used her just to copy her homework. All of it was country music fodder, and Beca could definitely see the appeal of another young pop-country singer that sings about a broken heart from the high school boy that got away, just like Taylor Swift. Everything about this girl—minus her looks and her lack of self-confidence—could sell. Beca was going to do her damndest to sell this girl. Occasionally, the girl stopped to sip her drink and take a deep breath, her nerves gradually decreasing as time went on.

"Okay, so I'm going to give you some hard truth right now, Ramona. I'm telling you, because I like you and I want to prepare you for what's to come. I think we both know what I'm going to say." Beca watched as Ramona tensed. "You've got this amazing talent and a gift with words. You're gonna write some amazing songs and sell out a lot of albums, but you're going to be torn apart because of how you look. I like you. A lot. I think you're fun and fresh, but the music business is ninety-five percent looks and five percent talent, unfortunately. At least for women. It sucks. It's not fair. I wish there was something I could do to change it. I might look like I'm edgy and alternative and enjoy telling the world to kiss my ass—I am and I do—but it doesn't change the fact that I'm just sitting behind a soundboard, so I can get away with it. You can't, so we gotta fix this whole situation before we can really sell you." Beca waved her hand at Ramona. Her jaw twitched, and the brunette watched as tears filled the teen's eyes. Shit, she made the kid cry. Contrary to popular belief, Beca wasn't a heartless monster; she felt bad when she had to write "no" emails and letters to people who didn't get picked to possibly be the next big thing. She felt bad when she had to say shit like this to sweet kids like Ramona. "Seriously, Ramona, I don't mean to say this to you and make you feel bad about yourself. You're pretty awesome, but I would be a shitty producer if I didn't try to help you out and be honest."

"I understand," Ramona said, releasing a shuddering breath. She wiped at the corner of her left eye with her index finger shoved under her glasses. Beca frowned, making a mental note of what she needed to do for this girl. First, she had to make an appointment with an eye doctor—glasses can be cute, and if the girl didn't want to do contacts, then she needed better frames. Then, there was an appointment with Aubrey to see what they can do with the frizzy hair, bushy eyebrows, and the obvious lack of know-how when it comes to makeup. Following a lesson on proper hair maintenance and makeup application that would flatter Ramona's natural style (which Beca thought she should totally keep. It would make her more relatable to her teen audience), she would then need to be set up with Chloe. Chloe would help the girl find a flattering clothing style that makes the girl look good, unlike her current outfit, which didn't flatter her build at all.

Beca explained all of this to Ramona. She also went over the contract, the expected sales that would come from Ramona's first CD release (if the girl was willing to listen to Beca's advice), and all of the other documents she had in her folder. She also went over her plans about getting the girl new glasses (and contacts if she wanted them), free hair and makeup advice, and a free makeover with three new outfits, as well as advice over how to plan future clothing—all on Wharton's wallet. She wrote down her cell phone number, tucking it inside of the folder. "You take this folder, peruse everything, and then give me a call with your decision. I'm telling you that I'm the best that Wharton has, let alone any of the other record labels that you've sent your stuff out to. I'm telling you that we will take your career far, so I really hope that you give us a call that says you want to work with us." She handed the folder to the girl. She stood up, chugging the last of her drink. She shook Ramona's hand, and the girl disappeared, heading back upstairs to her room to decide.

Beca began texting Luke, waving her hand for another drink order. She was pretty sure she bagged the girl, but only time would tell. She also texted the girls, letting them know where she was. A waitress dropped off her drink, and she glanced up at her, smiling. She sipped her drink and glanced around the room, taking in her surroundings. She was waiting on Stacie, who was close by. Aubrey wasn't coming, but Chloe was planning on bringing Evan when they finished up their dinner. As Beca looked around the room, texting Chloe and Luke at the same time, she felt someone's eyes on her. She settled her gaze on a guy with messy dark hair and a scruffy face, dressed in pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, sipping a drink as he leaned against the bar. He was standing there with a couple of other people: a tall, slender Indian guy with thick-rimmed glasses with poufy black hair atop his head, a guy about his height with curly black hair and wearing a striped polo shirt over khakis, a short guy with light brown hair who was wearing a pair of sandals on his feet, and a skinny blonde girl that draped over the guy with the sandals. The rest of them were talking, amongst each other as they drank their drinks, but the guy was staring at her. She rolled her eyes into her drink, looking away from the guy. About two minutes later, Stacie strutted into the room, dressed in a hot pink dress that was skintight and barely covered anything more than her four favorite parts (ass, crotch, and boobs). She tossed her black hair over her shoulder, dropping her black clutch onto the table. On her feet were black pumps that made her legs seem to go on for miles. The hunter was on the prowl.

"Wassup, slut?" Beca asked, looking Stacie up and down.

"I just finished up a date." Stacie winked. She ran a hand through her hair. "Do I have sex hair?" Beca shook her head.

"You're so gross." She laughed at the dark-haired girl. Stacie just grinned, draping herself into the chair next to Beca, one that afforded her a great view of the entire room. She crossed her legs slowly and deliberately, oozing with sex appeal.

"Mmm, it looks like you have a fan, Becs." Stacie said, grabbing Beca's drink and taking a sip of it, her eyes locked onto the group of people by the bar. "He's pretty cute. Looks like he has good arms…the rest of him doesn't look too bad, too." Beca rolled her eyes.

"He's not staring at me. He's probably trying to see up your skirt."

"No, I know when a guy is checking me out, and he's definitely not checking me out. He can't tear his eyes away from you. I guess he likes the alt-girl." Stacie finished off Beca's drink and set the empty glass onto the table. Beca grimaced when Stacie referenced Aubrey's name for Beca when they first met. "I think that you might have found your victim. I bet the sex would be really good…ninety-one days from now."

"He looks like a nerd with a beard."

"Nerds are always kinky, Beca. Best kind of sex to have."

"I hate you." Beca muttered. "Not only are you annoying the shit out of me, but you also stole my drink."

"Well, I guess we will just have to walk over to the bar and get some new ones." Stacie grinned evilly at Beca, who shook her head. Beca raised a hand, but Stacie dove on her, shoving her scantily-clad ass in the tiny brunette's face as she held Beca's arms down.

"Get off of me!" Beca shouted into the muffled confines of Stacie's ass. She literally was nose to barely-covered butt cheek with Stacie. She started laughing uncontrollably when Stacie purposely shimmied so that her butt was being rubbed more firmly against Beca's face. The two of them were a mass of limbs and giggles, and that was how Chloe and Evan found them.

"I had a dream like this once." Evan said, chuckling. "You were with them, Chloe. Except for two things—it was in our bedroom, not a crowded hotel bar, and the three of you were naked while wrestling."

"Evan!" Chloe said, laughing, her head falling back so that her red curls fell down her back, clutching her stomach with one hand, and backhanding him in the gut with the other.

"Sounds like fun," Stacie said, popping up and readjusting herself to sit more firmly on Beca's hands. She glanced down and shoved her hands into her dress, tucking her breasts back into the places that she wanted them, not caring that every man in the room was probably staring at her.

"Oh, my god! I couldn't breathe! Your ass was pressed against my face." Beca said, tucking her head onto Stacie's shoulder. "I probably just got an STD. Please tell me you didn't have anal with the guy you fucked fifteen minutes ago." Stacie turned her head and winked at Beca, who groaned. "Where's Aubrey when you need her—I need to borrow her purse toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, and floss to disinfect my mouth."

"She's getting fucked right now…not anally, but in her vag…unprotected…all in the hopes that she will get pregnant, get fat, ruin my wedding, and then pop out a baby that will be covered in blood, that cottage cheese stuff that is always on babies when they're born, and her own urine and feces!" Chloe said, pressing a hand to her chest and trying to take calming breaths to relax herself over the idea of having her wedding ruined by Aubrey being fat.

"It's called vernix." Beca and Stacie said at the same time, making Chloe and Evan stare at them in confusion. "The cheesy stuff on babies is called vernix, which is basically hairy skin." Stacie finished. "How the fuck would you know the technical term?" She said, shifting to stare at Beca with a raised eyebrow.

"Sheila, the step-monster, is a gynecologist and an obstetrician." Evan looked at her blankly. "It means she went to med school to be both a vagina doctor and a baby doctor." He nodded his head.

"Gotcha."

"Why would you know the technical term for vernix, though?" Stacie asked again.

"Because _both_ my mom and dad decided that she was the right one to explain the talk with me when I got my period the first time and became a 'woman.' Bitch went into specifics, telling me all about what menstruation is, all about the reproductive systems of men and women, how to keep myself clean and healthy down there, all of the different kinds of sex people can have—I mean _all_, as in men and men, women and women, and men and women—the signs to look out for when it comes to sexually transmitted diseases, and what happens during pregnancy and childbirth. It was the longest weekend of my life. I refused to go back to my dad's place for two months, because I couldn't get the images out of my head when she showed me the different pictures of people with STDs and the miracle of life videos that she gives to her patients. Aubrey's in for a rude awakening."

"Gross." Evan said, grimacing. He suddenly realized that Stacie was still sitting on Beca's lap (and hands). "Why are you sitting on Beca?"

"Oh, there's a hot, bearded nerd at the bar whose totes checking Beca out, but she refuses to go over to the bar, so I'm depriving her of alcohol until she agrees to not flag down a waiter but to actually walk over there and talk to him." Stacie grinned.

"A bearded nerd?" Evan laughed, dropping into the chair that Stacie had been sitting in before her attack on Beca, shaking his head. He studied the gaggle of people at the bar, spotting the guy in question as he commented on Stacie's labeling of the guy as a bearded nerd. "Sounds like a newly discovered animal species from the jungle." He slipped into his impression of Steve Irwin—a terrible Australian accent that sounded nothing like the deceased wildlife expert. "Crikey! I do believe we've spotted the bearded nerd by the watering hole. The bearded nerd is a pack animal, mingling with the four-eyed pompadour, the striped-curly nerd that is the bearded nerd's cousin, the pig-faced sandal toad, and the skinny blonde—all are herbivores, which makes them easy prey for the scary, ear-spiked, tattooed lioness who would tear their throats out without a moment's hesitation and the nearly-nekkid huntress whose weapon is yielded between her legs." The three women stared at Evan for a moment before they all broke into laughter. Chloe doubled over, resting her hands on her knees as she laughed so hard, her face turned the same color as her hair, and she started gasping for air. Stacie and Beca buried their faces into each other's necks as they laughed so hard that they cried hot tears against each other's skins.

"I have to pee!" Chloe said, rushing off to find the bathroom in the lobby of the hotel, barely able to form words or to walk straight due to her continued laughing.

"The jungle isn't in Australia," Beca said, shaking her head.

"There are rainforests in Australia…isn't that like the same thing as a jungle?" Stacie said. The two girls shrugged their shoulders. "Whatever. I need a drink, and the…what did you call him? The tall pompadour?" She asked Evan.

"The four-eyed pompadour."

"Right, the four-eyed pompadour looks about right to handle the weapon between this huntress's thighs." She stood up, holding a hand out for Beca. "C'mon. Time for the scary, ear-spiked, tattooed lioness to go tear out the throat of a certain herbivore."

"No way. I'm not going."

"Beca, you have to!" Stacie said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at the tiny brunette.

"I'm all for Beca not going over there, because that means that my fiancée won't partake in this stupid dare of not having sex with me for three months." Evan said, raising a hand to high five Beca, who returned it, grinning at him.

"But that means that the longer Beca waits to do this dare, the longer she will have to wait to have sex. We all know how much you like to have sex!" Stacie pointed a finger at Beca. "Almost as much as I do!"

"No one likes to have sex almost as much as you do. We'd all die from exhaustion." Beca said, shaking her head.

"Seriously, Beca. Do you really want to be abstinent for the rest of your life? You know that Aubrey's not going to let you out of this dare—she is going to harass you and harass you until you finally give in and participate in it. Plus, you know that you don't want her to win."

"Fuck…I don't want to go over there, Stacie. I feel like enough of a freak due to Aubrey talking me into this bullshit."

"Fine. Be a baby." Stacie said with narrowed eyes. "Evan, let's go get drinks for Chloe and the baby." Beca rolled her eyes, watching as the two of them walked off. A few minutes later, a still-chuckling Chloe dropped into the seat beside Beca.

"Hi," Chloe said, grabbing Beca's hand and interlacing her fingers with the brunette. Beca smiled at her older, redheaded friend.

"Hi. You're pretty tonight. How was dinner with the fella?" She asked her, and Chloe preened with her free hand, her blue eyes twinkling.

"It was fun. I'm glad he suggested it. I wouldn't let him out of bed all day, and finally he said that he was going to eat me—and not in the good way—if we didn't get up and get dressed. So, we went to the restaurant where we had our first date and ate all desserts and just enjoyed being together." Chloe smiled, squeezing Beca's hand. "It was fantastic and wonderful and amazing and special…I just love him, you know?" Beca rolled her eyes at her best friend.

"I know you do." She bit her lip, looking away from the redhead to glance as discreetly as she could at the guy by the bar. Yup…he was still staring, chuckling at something Evan was saying to the group of them as he and Stacie waited for their drinks to be prepared. Stacie was busy shoving her tongue down the throat of the dark-skinned guy with the glasses and the poufy hair while she waited.

"Oh! The bearded nerd _is_ hot." Chloe breathed into Beca's ear, making the brunette jump guiltily at getting caught staring at the guy. She turned to look at the redhead, and she found herself pressed nose to nose with her friend.

"Personal space is a concept neither you nor Stacie know anything about, huh?" Beca said, shifting so that there was some more space between hers and Chloe's faces. The redhead rolled her eyes.

"Is he The One?"

"The One? You're making it sound like he's my soul mate or something."

"He might be! Is he the guy that you're going to satisfy the dare with? He's really cute. He's got that shaggy dog kind of look going on, but he looks muscular in all the right places."

"What are all the right places?" Beca asked, furrowing her brow at Chloe.

"Arms, stomach, chest, legs, and dick. Duh. Well, back, too, but I can't see his back, so I'm gonna just guess and say that is muscular, too." Beca rolled her eyes.

"A muscular dick? Is the dick a muscle?"

"I don't know. We should ask Stacie. She's the one studying to be an urologist."

"She does like learning about penises. I just don't want to hear all about the other stuff that urologists need to know about. Like pissing and kidneys and stuff." Beca grimaced.

"I know. Why didn't she just do gynecology, like a normal person."

"She doesn't like vag as much as she likes dick. Plus, she still gets to be up close and personal with a vagina when women have issues with peeing, so she can get her lady-bits fix when she needs it."

"Anyways, you should totally go out with him. Although, you might want to tell him to shave his face when you go out with him, because beards hurt. Unless you have a hairy bush, but you don't, so…"

"How would you know the state of my pubic hair growth? It's been several years since you've seen me fully naked…"

"You're telling me that you grew that shit out so that it looks like the hair on your head?"

"No…"

"Exactly."

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Anyways, you should totally go for him. He's hot."

"He screams nerd."

"How do you know?"

"Just look at him."

"I am, and he looks _fine_. Most definitely not like a nerd. His friends are total nerds, but he doesn't look that bad."

"Chloe," Beca sighed. "I don't want to do this."

"I said it last night, and I'll say it again. I know you're scared of getting hurt, but that doesn't mean you should give up on love completely. What is the worst thing that can happen?"

"I told Aubrey it is that he realizes that I'm not going to put out and then dumps me and solidifies my belief that relationships are stupid."

"That's not it. I don't think that scares you at all. If anything, I think that's what you're hoping for so that you can get away with trying to succeed at the bet without actually having to go through with it. No, I know what you're scared of. You're scared that you're going to find someone that you like, that you want to be with, and you fall for him. I think you're scared of what comes after this dare is over with—when it is just you and this man, and you have feelings for him. You're scared that things aren't going to work out, just like they didn't work out for your parents." Beca turned her head away from the redhead, discreetly reaching up to swipe at a tear that slipped from her eye.

"You and Aubrey are exceptions, because you guys have decent guys that actually care about you." Beca told her.

"We didn't always have those guys, though. We've dated our fair share of assholes before we found Evan and Josh. We both dealt with broken hearts and bruised egos. You were there for a few of them. If things don't work out, then we will be there to help you pick up the pieces, just like you were there for us. You're never going to know if you don't try. You might find someone really fantastic and treats you amazingly and makes you feel like the best person in the world. You might find the person you're supposed to spend your life with."

"I don't know if I want to."

"Look at what happened after your parents divorced, Beca. They're both really happy now. Dr. Mitchell married…the new Mrs.…well, she's also Dr. Mitchell. And, your mom married that other guy at her office. All four of them are fantastically happy and in love. You're parents were supposed to be together long enough to have you, and that is why they were married. It was fate. You were meant to be here, and when the time was right, they ended things and found the other person that they were supposed to spend their life with."

"Chloe, you're such an idiot." Beca rolled her eyes at the philosophical bullshit that her best friend was spouting.

"Whatever, Beca. I'm just saying that you should really give this a chance, okay?" Beca shook her head at the redhead before turning her head to glance at the bar (and the bearded nerd). "Is he still staring?"

"Shut up. I was just looking for Stacie and your fiancé to see where our drinks are." Beca said quickly, tearing her eyes away from the handsome stranger. A few minutes later, she found herself looking over at the bar, but the handsome stranger was gone. She heard someone clear their throat next to her, and she glanced up. Her eyebrows rose in shock when she realized that the handsome stranger was standing beside her, a beer bottle in his left hand and a glass of what she was hoping was a jack and coke.

"Hi," he said, smiling down at her. He held the drink towards her. "Your friend said you like to drink a jack and coke." He said, offering her the glass. She nodded her head, waving her hand slightly at Chloe, who had stood up and excused herself to 'find her fiancé.'

"I do." She said, taking the glass from him, trying to not drop it when she felt the tips of her fingers stroke along the tips of his. She quickly brought the glass to her lips, taking a big sip of the drink.

"M'name's Jesse." He said, extending his hand toward her. She stared at the hand for a moment before raising her hand to shake his.

"I'm Beca."


	3. Chapter 3 - Conversations

**Strangers in the Night**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Chapter 3: Conversations**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: Chapter 3! Reviews are a little slow for this story and I hate being one of those people who beg for reviews, but I would really love it if you all would let me know what you think! A lot of Beca/Jesse talking in this chapter. I had to do the extended radio station scene dialogue, because it was perfect and amusing and the best way for Beca/Jesse to officially meet, as well as the picnic dialogue before the Riff Off, but I did add my own stuff in both convos. There is also a lot of stuff with the girls, too.**

**I've decided to stretch this story out longer than what I originally intended for it to be. I thought it is better as a longer fic. I don't want it to seem rushed.**

* * *

_Saturday, April 20, 2013_

"Beca." Jesse, the bearded nerd as Stacie and Evan _lovingly_ referred to him, said with a smile as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. Beca held back the eye roll, because he kissed her hand rather than shaking it like a normal person. He released her hand, glancing up and down her for a moment before smiling and sitting down in the chair opposite of her. "I like that. Beca. It fits you."

"It fits me? I should hope that my name fits me." She said, rolling her eyes at him and taking a sip of her drink.

"I don't know. There are a lot of people out there that don't really fit their names. Like my buddy over there," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the bar. "His name is Lionel. Like, really? What was going through his parents' heads when they decided to name him Lionel? It gets even worse! His last name is Allen. Lionel Allen. No middle name, just Lionel Allen. His name doesn't fit…doesn't fit together, doesn't fit him. I guess that's the beauty of nicknames, you know? We call 'im Bumper."

"Bumper? Tell me something; how'd y'all come up with the name of Bumper?" Beca winced slightly at the southern slang coming out of her mouth. She hated that she picked up some of the slang and a bit of the accent from her time in Georgia. She much preferred her Philly accent to Atlanta accent (mainly, because Philly meant she was 'home' with her mother and her family, and Atlanta meant Barden University, a strained relationship with her father, the step-monster Sheila, and her time in a cappella group, like the loser that she is). Jesse grinned wider at her hint of southern slang.

"He needs to have bumpers when we go bowling like a child."

"What if I told you that I need to have bumpers when I bowl? Would you call me a child?"

"Well, you are about the size of one from what I can tell so…" She rolled her eyes at him. "Tell me do you shop in the kids section of clothing stores?" It took all of her effort to refrain from smiling at him, because she was being a bitch, and he was taking it in stride. Plus, he was actually a little funny and charming. Just a little, though. "So, what's your deal? Are you one of those girls who's all dark and mysterious? Then, she takes off her glasses and that amazingly scary ear spike, and you realize she's been beautiful the whole time."

"I don't wear glasses."

"Then, you're halfway there."

"Wow." Beca shook her head, biting her bottom lip to hold back yet another smile. "That's the line you're going with? Really?"

"I thought it was pretty good. Most girls would love to be called beautiful."

"Yeah, well, I'm not most girls."

"Yup, you're definitely not. You're better."

"You're a weirdo." She said, shaking her head in disbelief at Jesse. It was the perfect word to describe him. He didn't give a shit about her surliness; in fact, he seemed to thrive off of it.

"Yeah, I am." He sat back, taking a sip of his beer. "And so are you. It's a good thing we're going to be best friends…and/or lovers." She couldn't keep the chuckle in anymore, shaking her head at him.

"Please don't say lovers." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Ever again."

"You know, I wouldn't pass this up. Once I get my big break, I probably won't have any time for you." He said grinning, lifting his left leg to balance his ankle on his right knee as he relaxed completely into the chair, making himself at home in the hotel bar like it was his apartment or something.

"Oh, wow. No, I didn't think there was a way for you to be _less attractive_ to me, but congratulations. You've managed it."

"Just wait. You'll go all squidy and drape yourself all over me. It'll be fun. You'll see."

"You're pretty full of yourself."

"I'm pretty awesome." She laughed openly, her head falling back and her eyes shut. When she finished laughing, she shook her head at him. This guy was a total nerd, like she thought, but he was amusing and charming. "I like your laugh." She bit her lip, giving him a shy smile as she looked away, hating that he made her blush. "I like you."

"No, you don't."

"I do."

"You don't even know me. If you knew me, you wouldn't like me."

"But, I do like you, so…" She shook her head at him, taking a sip of her drink, not meeting his eyes. "Have dinner with me." It wasn't a question, nor was it a command. It was simple a statement. She shook her head again.

"No," Beca said quietly, staring into her drink. From her peripheral, she saw Jesse's ankle fall from his knee, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his beer bottle in both hands.

"C'mon, Beca. Have dinner with me." She shook her head. She couldn't have dinner with him. If it weren't for this stupid dare, she would probably have taken him up on his offer, slept with him, and then never spoke to him again. He was amusing, sweet, fun: _boyfriend_ potential, the kind of guy that every girl wanted as her boyfriend—every girl, but her. While he would make the perfect boyfriend, he also had the potential to break her heart. She hated that Chloe was right…that she was scared of falling for someone and getting hurt. She was also scared of what would happen when that stupid dare was over. What happened when he found out that she was using him to prove to her friends that she could give commitment a shot and to not hump-and-dump like a guy? It would be so much easier if the guy was an asshole. It would be so much easier to say goodbye at the end of three months (or sooner), but Jesse wasn't an asshole. Well, he _was_, but not a real asshole, more like he was annoyingly confident in himself.

"Jesse, I can't." She said, taking the final sip of her drink and setting the empty glass on the table. She smiled sadly at him, grabbing her work bag, and stood up, phone in hand, already sending a text to Chloe (and, by default, Evan) to tell her that she was leaving. She knew that Stacie and that tall Indian friend of Jesse's were probably well onto the second tumble in bed in one of the hotel rooms upstairs, so she didn't even bother to send the text to her. "It was nice meeting you." She said quietly, not looking at him as she walked away.

"Beca, wait—" She didn't turn around though. She kept walking, straight out of the bar towards the entry lounge of the hotel. She hid behind a pillar, waiting for Chloe and Evan to close out their tab and say their goodbyes to the people that they were talking to by the bar. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she saw that it was a text from an unknown number. She opened it, hoping that it would be Ramona White texting with a question about the paperwork that Beca had given her or saying that she wanted to sign with Wharton Records, but it wasn't. She rolled her eyes as she read the message.

_7:42 PM Sat, Apr. 20  
From: +12125552133_

_Your friend Stacie told me that you'd probably say no, so she gave me your name and number before I even talked to you. In case you haven't noticed yet, I'm pretty persistent. I will get you to go out with me. –Jesse_

"Beca?" Beca glanced up, seeing that Chloe was staring at her in confusion, her head cocked to the side. "Why are you hiding behind a pillar?" She blushed, closing out the text and shoving her phone into the front pocket of her jeans.

"I wasn't. I was just waiting for you, that's all." Chloe stared at her for a moment with her eyes narrowed before shrugging it off.

"How'd it go? Are you guys going out?"

"Um," Beca bit her lip, leaving the protection of the pillar as she stepped closer to her best friend. "He…uh…he won't take no for an answer." Chloe squealed, hoping up and down while clapping her hands like a little kid.

"Yay! This is so exciting. When are you going out? Where are you going? What are you going to wear? Oh, my God! We have to go shopping! We could get you a cute new dress! Oh, don't look at me like that! You _have_ to wear a dress on the date! Fine, a skirt at least?" Beca shook her head as Chloe chattered on and on as they left the hotel, Evan following behind them slowly, whining about how he soon had to kiss having sex with his fiancée goodbye for the next three months.

* * *

_Tuesday, April 23, 2013_

Beca cursed when Stacie yanked particularly hard on a knot in her hair as she was combing through the tiny brunette's freshly washed hair. "Fuck! That hurt!"

"Sorry! I just don't understand how your hair came _out_ even more knotted and a mess than it did going _into_ the shower!" Stacie snapped, combing through the tangle more slowly and gently. "Why the hell isn't Aubrey here to do your hair? It is her job after all. You know…celebrity hair and makeup stylist? I'm good with the cuticle care, not hair care."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want her here since this is all her fault." Beca said sourly, crossing her arms, glaring angrily into the mirror at herself as she sat in her bra and underwear on a chair in front of the mirror over her dresser in her bedroom.

"Too bad, I'm here anyway." Aubrey's voice came from the doorway, and Beca turned her glare towards the blonde as she sauntered over to Stacie, taking over. "You need to spray the detangler on Beca's hair first. It's always been like a robin's nest, so she needs detangling spray like a little kid." The blonde reached for the spray off of Beca's dresser and began spraying and combing through the tiny brunette's hair. "See? Easy as pie. What are you wearing on the date tonight?"

"I'm already dressed." Beca said, and their two sets of blue eyes locked in the mirror as the brunette waved her hand over her nearly nude body. "Don't you like it? I thought I would give him a show of what he has to wait three months to have." Aubrey rolled her eyes.

"You're such an idiot. I need to know what Chloe has picked out so that I can match your hair and makeup."

"It's on the bed. Chloe laid it out for her earlier before she ran home to fuck Evan her last few times. It is the designer black skinny jeans, the black strappy sandals, and the loose, flowy white blouse with the tie at boobs." Stacie said as she gripped Beca's right hand in her left hand as she painted her finger nails black one-handed. "Don't move your hand, Beca, or I will get the nail polish everywhere." Stacie told her.

"Why are you wearing a white shirt if your bra is black?" Aubrey asked, pausing from pining sections of Beca's hair to the top of her head.

"Apparently it's not that trashy to wear a black bra under a white shirt." Beca said, shrugging her shoulders. "I think it's only fair that I torture him just as much as I'm being tortured by not being allowed to have sex for three months." Aubrey rolled her eyes.

"It'll be worth it. Ask Josh." Beca raised her eyes brows.

"Really? You made him wait three months?"

"Six, actually." Aubrey said, refocusing her attention on Beca's hair. Stacie made a choking noise almost dropping the nail polish brush onto Beca's floor.

"What?!" Beca said with her eyes wide as she studied the blonde in the mirror.

"Yeah, well, after things with Eddie and I didn't really work out, I decided that I was going to give up men for awhile. Then, I met Josh, and we hit it off, but I was still reeling over the fact that my douche bag ex-boyfriend gave me..." She mumbled the word quietly, making Stacie roll her eyes.

"Oh, God, just say gonorrhea. It's not that hard. Eddie fucked around on you and gave you gonorrhea." Stacie said as she walked around the girls to paint Beca's other hand. "It is the first time that your ridiculous fear of STDs paid off when we all thought you just had a UTI from having too much sex. You got that shit cleared up and taken care of in like five minutes. You're fine."

"Eddie gave you gonorrhea? Where was I when this happened?"

"Well, I didn't tell you or Chloe. I just told Stacie, because she goes for STD tests all of the time. I was nervous and wanted her to go with me."

"No wonder you didn't have sex with Josh for six months…but _shit_…that's a long time. How'd you go without sex for _six months_?"

"Let's just say I used a lot of batteries…"

"Yeah, Adonis got quite the workout." Stacie winked. Beca raised an eyebrow at Aubrey.

"Adonis?"

"Yeah, like in Greek mythology. He was one of Aphrodite's lovers."

"You named your vibrator after Aphrodite's lover?" Aubrey blushed, making Beca laugh. "Nice."

"Oh, don't act like you haven't named yours. We all have." Stacie said, capping the bottle of nail polish. She grabbed a bottle of cooking spray, making Beca look at her with wide eyes. "It's for your nails—to get them to dry faster. Anyways, my pink vibrator, the big one," she winked at the girls as she sprayed Beca's nails. "That's named George, as in George Clooney. Then, I have my classic white one—that's Brad, as in Brad Pitt. Then, there's my bullet, which I've named Johnny, like Johnny Depp, because Johnny Depp is a nugget muscle-wise, but he's still super sexy."

"Please stop." Beca said, shaking her head.

"I agree. We really don't need to know about _all _of your vibrators." Aubrey said with a grimace on her face.

"Beca, what've you named yours?" Stacie asked, shrugging as she sat down on Beca's bed with a nail file in one hand, working on the nails on her other hand.

"Who says I've got a vibrator?"

"Chloe told me that she bought you one for you birthday our freshman year at Barden. I'm assuming you're on your third by now."

"What if I never even opened it?"

"Oh, please. People might not go out and buy their own, but if a free one gets handed to you, you're gonna use it." Stacie said, rolling her eyes. "So, what did you name it?"

"I didn't name that vibrator, or any other vibrator I may or may not have." Beca said, watching as Aubrey dried and curled and pinned and straightened and sprayed (she didn't get the whole point of straightening hair and then going back over it with a curling iron) her hair.

"Well, after tonight, you're probably going to start calling it Jesse." Stacie grinned, dropping the nail file into the bag of nail supplies that she brought with her that was sitting on the floor by her feet. She pulled out a bottle of hot pink nail polish and began reapplying it to her nails. Beca sighed, pouting.

"I can't believe you're making me do this." She moaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. She grimaced at the greasy feel of her fingers. "Shit, when can I take this crap off?"

"Oh, you can wash your hands now." Stacie told her, not looking up from applying the fresh coat of nail polish on her fingers. Aubrey pinned a piece of Beca's hair to her head and told her to hurry back.

When Beca reseated herself on the chair, she heard her front door fly open. "I'm back! I'm sore! I can barely walk! I'm most definitely satisfied!" Chloe's voice called through the apartment as they heard the door shut and footsteps make their way towards Beca's room. The redhead arrived in the doorway, her hair tossed in a messy bun on top of her head (clearly not brushed), her face flushed, dressed in a man's shirt (with or without a bra, the girls weren't sure) over a pair of striped Capri pajama bottoms, and a pair of flip flops on her feet. She was limping slightly, which made Aubrey and Beca laugh, whereas Stacie shot Chloe a thumbs-up. "Why aren't you dressed? Isn't he gonna show up here in like five minutes?"

Beca glanced at the clock and cursed under her breath. "Aubrey, I haven't done my makeup yet. Are you done with my hair yet?" Aubrey rolled her eyes, sliding a bobby pin into a portion of Beca's hair and running her fingers through the loose parts lightly.

"You're done." Beca's hair was in loose curls and pulled off to the side, twisted in an intricate pattern and pinned into place. It looked really good. "Can I do your makeup? It'll be faster."

"Fine, but you do it the way I want it done."

"Uggh! I hate how heavy handed you are with the mascara and eyeliner. Seriously, you look like a fucking panda!" Aubrey said, which earned her shocked (and amused, in Beca's case) looks from the other girls. "Sorry. I'm just saying that sometimes a lighter eye looks good." Beca rolled her eyes.

"Do what you want, I guess." Aubrey grinned and moved in front of Beca, quickly applying a light layer of makeup—white and light gray eye shadows, black winged eyeliner, black mascara, light pink blush, dark red lipstick.

"Done." Aubrey said, grinning. "And, it only took me ten minutes. I'm proud. It's a new record."

"Where's Jesse?" Chloe muttered as Beca quickly dressed herself. She studied herself in the mirror—she still looked like her, but a mature version of herself. She dug through her closet to find her small black purse, tossing in the red lipstick, her credit card, her cell phone, her keys, and a pack of breath mints. She figured that she had everything she needed (minus three condoms, which she usually kept in her purse, but Aubrey would have freaked out about the dare if she had tried to put those in the bag).

"I'm not sure," Beca said as she packed up the purse. "Maybe he's running late?" When she was finished packing up her bag, she crossed her arms as she stared at her friends. "I don't want to do this."

"Oh, my God, Beca!" Aubrey groaned, falling back onto the bed. "Would you shut up about it already? You need to get over it. You're going on a date with a nice guy, from what I've heard from Evan and Stacie, and you're going to have fun. Quit complaining and just deal with it!"

"I don't want to do this! I just don't understand why you're making me go through with this! It's my life—my business. If I want to be a spinster for the rest of my life, I can damn well be a spinster for the rest of my life!"

"Just give it a chance!" Beca's phone started buzzing from inside her purse. She quickly pulled it out.

"Is it Jesse?" Chloe said as she bounced on the bed slightly before wincing at the pressure it put between her legs. "Fuck, Evan really went to town on me tonight. I'm going to be sore for days, I think."

"Mmm, that sounds delish," Stacie said, fanning herself with her eyes closed.

"Jesse said he got caught in traffic and he'll be here in ten." She sighed. "I hate that he's picking me up. It's so old fashioned. The weirdo insisted that he pick me up for the first date. I responded that the feminist in me insisted to pick him up for the date, and he said that I could buy us dinner if I wanted to."

"He's making you buy him dinner!?" Aubrey said, frowning.

"It's not that big of a deal, Aubrey. He's not making me do anything. I'm glad he's letting me buy us dinner tonight, because it gives me a little bit of control in this bullshit situation that I have no control over and don't want to be involved in."

"He should be paying for dinner and picking you up and driving you home and holding doors for you and a bunch of other shit. It's what men are supposed to do."

"Remember how I said that you were putting feminism back sixty years? You just knocked shit back to the eighteen hundreds with that." Beca said, rolling her eyes. A few moments later, she heard a knock on the door. "Stay here!" She said, pointing a finger at them. "Lock up when you leave."

"Hell no, we're waiting right here to hear all about it!" Chloe told her. "I'm gonna take a shower though, because I think I smell like sex."

"You totally do. It was getting me hot and bothered. I might call Jesse's friend, Donald." Stacie told Chloe. "I'm probably _not_ going to be here when you get back."

Beca chose to ignore her slutty friend and headed out of her bedroom towards her front door. She took a deep breath before she opened the door to her apartment. She blushed when Jesse let out a slow whistle as he looked her up and down. "Miss Mitchell, you look stunning. I'm _so glad_ you finally agreed to this date. I feel like the luckiest man in the world." He pressed a hand to his chest as he leaned his side against the doorway. She rolled her eyes at him before she took in his appearance: khakis, a black button up, and nice shoes. He looked good, and it appeared that he trimmed up his face some, making the scruff look neater.

"Oh, my God! Where's the camera? Our little Beca's going on her first date!" Stacie crowed, making Beca turn beet red, glaring over her shoulder at the taller brunette. Stacie just winked. Aubrey was chuckling beside her, her mouth hidden behind her perfectly manicured hand.

"I hate you. I literally hate both of you. The only one I like right now is Chloe, and that is because she is currently naked in my shower, trying to wash away the stench of Evan." Beca pointed a finger at them. "You two better behave, or I'm calling the police and telling them that someone broke into my house."

"Shut it, Beca. I'm Aubrey. Jesse, right?" Aubrey said, coming forward with a hand stretched towards him. "Really, Beca, you're so rude. Invite the guy in." She rolled her eyes, pulling Jesse through the door the moment his hand started to shake hers.

"Um, hi, Aubrey. Stacie." He nodded his head to Stacie who waved a hand at him before she dropped on the couch, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. She turned it on and began flipping through the channels.

"Seriously, between you and Stacie, I'm so embarrassed." Aubrey said, shaking her head and sending a glare between the two brunette women.

"You're acting like you're the one going on the date. Do I need to remind you that you're married? I mean I could totally call Josh and tell him that you're trying to step out on him. He did tell me that he had that dream about me the one time…we could run off together and you can have the nerd." Beca said, opening her purse to grab her phone. "He's number two on my speed dial. We talk every night when you're in the bathroom for your night care routine that takes forty-five minutes."

"Hey! Do not make fun of my night care routine. It takes work to look this good." Aubrey said, waving a hand at perfect appearance. Beca rolled her eyes.

"Pssh! Aubrey, all you need is a good fucking, and you look good for the rest of your life. Case and point, _moi_." Stacie pointed a finger at herself, her eyes not leaving the television. "Becs, you got any good porn? Chloe smelling like sex got me turned on. I'm so glad I bring Johnny with me everywhere." Stacie said, making Beca start laughing at the horrified look on Aubrey's face.

"You carry a vibrator in your purse?" Aubrey asked her in a high pitched voice.

"Um, yeah…always. You never know when you need to scratch that itch." Jesse cleared his throat, making Beca laugh harder.

"You're scaring him, Stacie."

"If he wants to date you, he should get used to it."

"Beca, I borrowed some of your clothes. Mine smelled like Evan." Chloe said, limping into the living room, dressed in a pair of Beca's pajama shorts and a tank top (with no bra), combing her fingers through her wet red hair. "Hi, Jesse." She grinned at him. "Where are you and Beca going tonight?"

"Hey, uh, Chloe, right?" She nodded her head. "Um, I thought I would keep it relatively simple and relaxed—it took a lot of effort to get Beca to go out with me, so I figured that being chill would probably be my best bet."

"Very smart. Beca's a runner." Stacie said, from the couch. Chloe dropped onto the couch beside her. One of her hands was buried inside of Beca's bag of potato chips.

"Want one?" She asked, offering the bag to Stacie. Stacie smiled, reaching her hand into the bag to grab a chip.

"Dude! You have your own food at your apartment that you share with your fiancé. You have your husband to go home to and try to make a baby with. You have some stranger to pick up off the street for a quickie in the alleyway. All three of you, get the fuck out of my place!" Beca pointed a finger at each of them as she addressed them, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the door. All three women scoffed and continued to do what they were doing before.

"So, what does keeping it simple, relaxed, and chill mean exactly?" Aubrey said, crossing her arms and staring at Jesse with an eyebrow raised, her lips pursed.

"Um, I was thinking dinner and a movie. You know, the classic first date." The girls all giggled, and Beca crinkled her nose in disgust. Jesse glanced between the four women. "What?"

"Can we do something else? We could relive my parents' divorce. Or visit a gynecologist."

"I hope you don't mean that as a euphemism." Aubrey said, pointing at Beca, who rolled her eyes.

"Why would she use visiting a gynecologist as a euphemism for sex?" Chloe said around a mouthful of chips. "There is nothing pleasant about visiting a gynecologist."

"I don't know…if the speculum is shoved up there right, it can be a fun experience." Stacie said, shrugging her shoulders. The three girls stared at her in horror. "My lady doctor is one hot silver fox. He's really good with his fingers." She winked at other four as she popped a chip into her mouth.

"You're such a whore." Aubrey said, shaking her head. "I seriously cannot understand how you have not gotten an STD."

"Hey, I keep my shit clean. There was this one time that my lady doctor did tell me I shouldn't have sex for three weeks when I was a freshman in high school, but I didn't listen to her."

"And you're in med school?" Aubrey said, shaking her head.

"Well, I was a freshman in high school and dumb then. Now, I wait at least a week." Stacie waved her hand at Aubrey, acting like it is no big deal.

"If you left now, I wouldn't blame you." Beca whispered to Jesse, who just chuckled and nudged her shoulder with his.

"They're hilarious. It's like watching a perverted tennis match. It's awesome." His tone and face became serious as he looked at down at her. "So, do you not like movies or something?" He said. Beca just stared at him, and his jaw dropped open. He looked at the other girls desperately, and they all chuckled at his horrified expression. "Like any movies? What the hell is wrong with you? How do you not like movies? Not liking movies is like not liking puppies!" Beca rolled her eyes.

"They're fine. I just get bored and never make it to the end."

"The endings are the best part!"

"They're predictable. Like, the guy gets the girl, that kid sees dead people, and Darth Vader is Luke's father."

"Oh, right, so you just happened to guess the biggest cinematic reveal in history?"

"Vader in German means father. His name is literally Darth Father." Beca chuckled. Jesse just shook his head.

"Huh. So, you know German. Now I know why you don't like fun things." She grinned at him, amused by his reaction to her not liking movies. "You need a movie education. You need a movication, and I'm gonna give it to you."

"I like pornos. Do they count?" She tried to keep a straight face, but his grin only made her start giggling.

"You're bad news, Beca Mitchell." She ignored the whispered "they are so _fucking_ cute!" from Chloe, the not-so-quiet whispers from Stacie wondering what kind of porn Beca liked to watch, and the choked gasp from Aubrey over Beca's discussion of porn with Jesse. "I'm giving you a movication, but not tonight. If I want you to actually agree to go on a second date with me, I will refrain from the movication. Next time, you, me, popcorn, juice pouches, and a movie."

"Juice pouches? What are you twelve?" Beca scoffed, but she couldn't help but think that he was charming and their movie date would probably be kind of fun—purely because she could spend the entire night harassing him by complaining ad nauseum about how much she hated the movie. "It's a surprise, really, that you don't have a girlfriend."

"Beca!" Aubrey shrieked. Jesse just shrugged Beca's rude remark off.

"I'm gonna let you in on a secret." He said quietly behind his hand as he leaned towards her. "There is this one girl. She's beautiful, funny, sexy, and very sarcastic—_perfect_, really. Thing is, I only met her a few days ago. We gotta work up to the girlfriend thing." Beca blushed, looking away, trying to keep the embarrassed smile off of her face.

"Let's just go, weirdo." She said, waving goodbye to the girls and marching out of the apartment. He followed her into the hallway, guiding her onto the elevator with a hand pressed firmly against her lower back. She took a deep breath and let it out discreetly as he focused his attention on pushing the button to bring them down to lobby on the first floor. _Shit_, she was in trouble. Why did she agree to go on this date (and do this dare)? She was such an _idiot_.

* * *

**Author's Note: Beca's kind of annoying in this chapter. I'm sorry for that. She keeps complaining about going on this date and following through with the dare, but we all know if she really **_**didn't**_** want to follow through with it, she wouldn't have to, no matter how much Aubrey would gloat about it. She secretly wants to go on this date and to try this whole thing out, but she feels like she has to be vocal about how much she **_**doesn't**_** around the other girls, because she doesn't want to admit that she actually wants to go on the date and to see where things are going.**

**Let me know what you think. :)**


	4. Chapter 4 - The Date

**Strangers in the Night**

**A **_**Pitch Perfect **_**Story**

**Chapter 4: The Date**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: The summer semester is done, and I have a couple of weeks of freedom before the fall semester starts up. Yay for that! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! It's the date. Also, I made a correction to the dates in the last chapter. I accidentally typed the wrong Saturday/Tuesday in April, and I couldn't figure out why I was winding up with more than 91 days and such. Sorry about that! Nice and long for you! 17 pages! Took me forever, but I didn't want to break the date up. Enjoy!  
**

_Tuesday, April 23, 2013_

Beca rolled her eyes when Jesse opened the door to his car, a tan sedan of some kind (she really didn't know anything about cars aside from barely how to drive one), to let her into the passenger side. Uggh, why? She had hands; she can open her own goddamn door, thank you very fucking much. Jesse presented the open car door to her like he was someone on a game show. She cocked an eyebrow at him before climbing into the car, mumbling all about how he was such a tool. She ignored his chuckle as he shut the door to the passenger side of the car and watched him walk around to the driver's side. He climbed into the car beside her, fumbling with his keys in one hand while he shut the door with the other. "I'm excited about this date."

"What are we doing, since the whole movie plan was vetoed?" Beca chose not to tell him her feelings about the date, because she wasn't sure what her feelings were exactly. She hated that she was forced to go on this date and be involved in this stupid dare, but there was a small part of her that was intrigued by him, which was the part of her that she hated the most.

"Well, I guess we could do my second favorite activity. Well, actually it is my third favorite, because movie watching is technically my second favorite activity, and music is my first." He was rambling, and he didn't notice the way that Beca visibly winced at hearing him say that music was important to him. She hated when people found out that she was a producer, because they always wanted her to help them get representation and to get famous. Most of the time, they had _no_ talent, which was awkward for her to tell them that there was no way she could help them with their dreams. She really hoped that Jesse only liked listening to music, not a singer or something.

"Anyway," she said, cutting off his rambling about how music and movies went together, because they both move people and make them feel, and how music helps to tell the story in movies, by helping the viewer to know what to feel at any moment. "Where are we going?"

"First things first, Miss Beca, want to eat first or do the activity first?" She rolled her eyes at him. He was such a fucking idiot.

"I could eat." She said finally, giving him a sarcastic smirk. He grinned, nodding his head.

"Dinner it is." He turned left at the next light, and he chatted all the while about how great of a day he had-how he had been distracted at work all day, imagining what their date was going to be like. She blushed when he said that he kept telling everyone about the beautiful and amazing girl that he had met and their date that night. She looked out the window, rubbing the tip of her nose with her fingernail, something she did when she was especially uncomfortable and embarrassed. "So, what about you, Beca? Were you excited about our date tonight?" She laughed.

"Someone didn't exactly let me say no, so excited isn't exactly the right word." He pouted like a little kid, and she rolled her eyes again. "The girls were more excited than I am...they like anything that is remotely anxiety-causing in my life, and they jump all over the chance to see me all twitchy." She told him.

"This date is anxiety-producing for you?" He asked, and she heard the hitch in his voice-it was obvious that her saying that had upset him in some way. She bit her lip, frowning slightly.

"Any first date is anxiety-producing. Any first of whatever is anxiety-producing." She said quietly, looking down at her hands. "Doesn't necessarily mean that is always bad." She felt him glance over at him. "Eyes on the road, Casanova." She glanced over at him, seeing the small grin on his face as he focused on driving.

"Yeah, I'm nervous, too. I'm nervous that it's not gonna be good enough to impress you." Her nose twitched again, and she rubbed the tip of it with her index finger once again.

"I'm surprised to hear you say you're nervous. Something tells me that you're ego is normally so huge that you don't exactly fear anything." He laughed, pulling into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant.

"Only the really important things scare me, Miss Beca Mitchell." He parked the car and turned it off, turning to give her a smile. "Italian, okay?"

"Yeah, Italian's fine." She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the car door. She felt the heat of his hand as he laid it on her arm. She glanced back at him.

"Let me get the door for you."

"I have two hands, idiot. I'm an adult woman, not a damned child." She told him, crossing her arms. "This is the twenty-first century, not the seventeenth." He rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh, I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, despite the fact that you look like a toddler, but I want to hold the door for you, because I want to show you that I respect you and I like you. Is that okay?" Beca sighed. Jesse was a pain in the ass. It was still a misogynistic thing to do, but he seemed so heartfelt about it.

"Fine." She muttered, leaning back in the seat with a pout on her face.

"Great!" He jumped out of the car and rushed to her side to open the door for her. He opened the door for her, grinning all the while. He grabbed her hand and walked her to the door of the restaurant. She tried to keep her breathing even, since he had interlaced his fingers with hers. The heat of his palm against hers made her stomach clench, and she glanced away from him, rubbing the tip of her nose with her fingertip. "So, is that like a nervous habit you have?" She jumped, glancing at him. "The nose thing? You've rubbed the tip of your nose with your right index finger three times in the last fifteen minutes." She blushed.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Beca said, biting her lip and squeezing her right hand into a fist to keep from scratching her nose like an idiot.

"That's something else you do a lot. You bite your lip." Jesse nudged her with his shoulder, squeezing her hand lightly with his. "I like the lip biting better, in case you're wondering...draws attention to your mouth, which makes me think of kissing you." Her jaw dropped open, and she stared at him in shock, her eyebrows raised in shock. He just flashed her an innocent smile.

"You're ballsy, Mr. Swanson. Who said I'm gonna let you kiss me?" She said, stopping and pulling her hand from his to cross her arms as she stared at him in amusement. He smiled at her, a smile that she could only describe as sinful. He stepped forward, crowding her space until his chest was flush against her crossed arms. She stared up at him, as he stared down at her. Her breathing hitched when she felt his fingertips dig into her hipbones. His face inched towards hers until the tip of his nose brushed against hers. She could feel his breath mixing with hers, and she noticed that it smelled minty and sweet. She barely knew this guy, but she knew that if he closed the distance between their mouths right then, she would kiss him back. Her stomach was practically folding in on itself with the way that it was clenching over how close he was to her. Suddenly, his face was no longer within millimeters of hers, and he was stepping away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Who said I was going to try and kiss you?" He said, his voice deeper and huskier. "I'm just not that kind of guy, Miss Mitchell. I'm offended that you think so low of me! I absolutely don't kiss on the first date. Sheesh!" She chuckled, shaking her head and looking away from him. "Go ahead and rub your nose and bite you lip. We both know you want to." She scrunched her nose at him, because, _damn it_, if he couldn't read her like a book in that moment. She tried her best not to, but finally, she couldn't hold back any longer. She reached up to brush the tip of her nose furiously. He chuckled, and she pouted at him, her bottom lip jutting out like Chloe's sister's three year old often did when she didn't get her way. "Oh, stop." He said, stepping forward to pull her into a hug. She refused to hug him back, but it didn't stop her from breathing in the spicy smell of his cologne. Fuck, it appeared he was nicely muscled beneath his shirt like Chloe had guessed on Saturday night. He released her. "C'mon, let's get some dinner."

They walked inside and within ten minutes, they were seated and perusing the menu. Jesse was quietly muttering to himself about whether he was going to get the lobster or the really expensive steak dish. Beca rolled her eyes, because he was making a big stink about her paying for dinner, but it was the only way that she would agree to this stupid date. "You're like a child."

"Thank you! Speaking of children, since we both know that it is inevitable that we will be having them, we should probably start picking out the names now. I'm partial to the name Aaryn. It's cute, right? Good for a boy or a girl. Plus, we could spell it a-a-r-y-n, rather than a-a-r-o-n or e-r-i-n. Gives it a uniqueness, you know? Like his or her mommy and daddy. Let's just hope that our kids inherit my height, because it's going to be pathetic enough that you will be able to wear the same outfits as a nine year old. We really don't want history to repeat itself for our kid." She just stared at him, because _what the fuck_? "Oh, my God, the look on your face is fantastic. I have to take a picture of it!" He pulled out his cell phone and snapped a picture of her horrified facial expression. "Yup, that's going on the save the dates!" He started laughing, shoving his phone into his pocket again. She didn't even know what to say, because this guy was insane. He had to be, right? There was no other explanation for how fucking odd he was. "I'm messing with you, Beca. I'd love our child even if he or she inherited your dwarfism."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Yes, of course, I'm kidding. Don't get me wrong. I believe in fate and all that, but even I'm not that crazy to really believe that you and I are gonna get married and have babies. It's only the first date. That's date two talk. Duh." She let out a high-pitched giggle of discomfort, because this guy was freaking her out. Mainly, because she was looking forward to spending more time with him. Motherfucking fuckity fuck shit, she thought to herself. That was beyond embarrassing. One of his eyebrows rose at the giggle.

"That is my 'how fast should I be running away' laugh." She told him, and he smiled at her.

"So, tell me about yourself, Beca. Where are you from originally?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"How'd you know I'm not from L.A. or California, in general?"

"You're accent. It's like a weird combination of north-eastern slang and southern drawl." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "The northerner in me knows my fellow northerners. Plus, you dropped a y'all when I met you, which you seemed embarrassed about." She blushed.

"Born and raised in Philly area, but my dad lives and works in Atlanta, and I spent a lot of my summers and some holidays in Atlanta before finally going to college there. Occasionally, a little southern tang slips in when I don't want it to." He smiled at her. "You're a New Yorker."

"Yes, ma'am. Born and raised in Manhattan. Went to NYU for my bachelor's and master's." Beca's jaw dropped open. Bachelor's and master's degree? _Holy shit_. NYU was a hard school to get into for a bachelor's degree, but adding in getting in for a master's, as well? This guy was obviously talented.

"Really? What did you major in?" She swallowed, waiting to hear something about music performance or something like that. Well, at least she knew that he had talent, so if he tried to force his big break down her throat, it wouldn't be as uncomfortable as it is when she's around people who had no talent.

"Music composition for both degrees. My elective concentration for both degrees was composition for film and multimedia. See, combining my two loves: movies and music." Music composition was not what she was expecting.

"Music composition." She repeated, smiling. She hoped he didn't pick up on the relief.

"Yeah, it was always my goal to score movies, blow people's minds, all that. I mean, that is where my passion for music started. I watched a movie, and I noticed how awesome the musical track behind it was-it helped me to figure out what was going on in the moment. I had just started taking piano lessons, so I was always so crazed about anything that had to do with piano. So, when I like really realized that there is music involved with movies, I fell in love. I knew that was what I was destined to do. So, I learned any instrument I could get my hands on. Thank God my parents were both doctors, because they could afford to send me to private music schools and giving me all of these insane lessons in piano, violin, viola, cello, harp, drums, guitar, saxophone, oboe, et cetera. You name it, I probably took some lessons in it. I became obsessed with learning how to play instrument. My core instrument, though, is piano. I primarily write everything on piano and then use electronic programs to fill in the other instruments, because I'm not as strong in them as I am in piano."

The entire time he was talking, she watched him. His eyes were huge and bright, and there was a massive grin on his face. He was practically bouncing in his seat, and his hands were flying as he talked. He spoke quickly and animatedly. He was excited about music, and it made her smile, because that was how she was when she made music. Granted, she wasn't the one who wrote it or even performed it, but she was the one that helped to edit it and piece it together. She was the one who got to play around with its tempo, speed, volume, and the list went on. She was the one who got to take the many different parts that Jesse was talking about-the vocals, the guitar, the bass, the drums-and put it together in a way that flowed and made sense. She helped bring the finished product to everyone else. She liked the behind the scenes stuff.

"Sorry, I'm rambling and acting like a total fool. Classic first date etiquette dictates that I'm not supposed to talk about myself, but to ask you a bunch of questions." He blushed.

"No, it's fine. I like hearing you talk about music. It's your passion. So, after you got your master's, what did you do? How did you end up here in L.A.?" She asked him, closing her menu and setting it onto the table in front of her. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, I worked in the City for about two years, teaching music part-time and working on freelance pieces for different television shows and stuff. Nothing too permanent, but it paid the bills. Like I said, thank God my parents were doctors, so I could afford to go to school without worrying about financial aid and working and shit like that. I could afford to be in a not so permanent position while I waited for that big break, you know?" He swallowed, smiling at the waiter who placed two glasses of the white wine they had ordered in front of them. "We need a few more minutes." He said, and the waiter nodded, wandering off.

"And, moving here?" She opened her menu and began looking through it again, settling for the eggplant parm with spaghetti. She closed the menu once again and set it aside as he answered her question.

"Well, a bunch of my old friends from college had moved out here while I was get my master's and working. I visited them a bit, and I really fell for L.A. Plus, it would help to make my dream of scoring and soundtracking movies a reality if I actually lived where most of them were made, right?" He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "So, I sent out resumes and copies of my pieces and got some freelance work out here. I'm not where I want to be yet, but I'm happy." She smiled at him, nodding her head. "What about you, Beca?"

"Well, I didn't get my master's." She joked, sipping her wine. "My dad is an English professor at Barden University, so after I graduated from high school, I got a free-ride to Barden, so I didn't really look into going to any other colleges. I didn't have plans on going to college at all, but I was eighteen with barely any money in the bank, because how much money can you really make working part-time in a coffee shop in the suburbs of Philly?" She shrugged her shoulders. "My dream was to go straight here and DJ until I got my big break, but my dad wouldn't help me out, even though he and my step-mom could afford it. Some of us aren't lucky enough to have parents that give a shit and support your dreams." She said dejectedly. He frowned.

"I'm sure that your dad supports you." She shook her head, scoffing at him.

"He told me the day that I moved into college that DJing is a hobby and not a career, and then he had the nerve to suggest that I major in something other than music production and engineering at Barden. All I have to say is that if I was stuck taking bullshit music theory classes at Barden, I probably would have hitched, stripped, and sold my body in order to get across the country and to live in LA. Thankfully, Barden had production classes. I don't need music theory to know how to mix music to sound good or how to blend upbeats with downbeats, and how to tweak rhythms and when to bring one melody to the forefront and push another to the background." She rolled her eyes.

"It's a shame that you didn't look into other colleges. NYU has music technology programs in both undergrad and graduate levels. I had a lot of friends in both of them."

"I know. My boss went to Barden for his undergrad and then his master's at NYU for music business with a music technology concentration. I met him my freshman year at Barden when he was a senior. He was my station manager at the radio station that I worked at. He and I kept in touch after he graduated, and when I graduated from Barden and told him I was finally moving to LA, he hooked me up with a job at Wharton Records, where he's head of the music productions department. Now, he does mainly the business side of music production, meeting with agents and the people that do the shit that you want to do, and I'm his favorite music producer, doing the shit that I love to do." She bit her lip. "The only reason why I went to college at all was because Barden was free. My dad and the step-monster could have afforded to help me go to college, but my mom and step-dad wouldn't have been able to do it. My dad wouldn't have let me go to any school and major in music production, like NYU or whatever. He would have refused to pay, but because he didn't have to pay for Barden, he couldn't really control what it was that I majored in."

"How does he feel about you doing the job you have now?"

"Every time I call him, he asks me if I'm calling because I lost my job and need money." She rolled her eyes. "Suffice to say, I don't call him often except when it is a holiday or someone's birthday. My dad and I don't really get along, you know?"

"I can tell. What about you and your mom?"

"My mom's great. She works at some pharmaceutical company in sales. Her husband, Mike, works in another department in the company. He's cool, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's nice, plain, kind of boring. He likes making model cars and planes and shit. I always know what to get him for his birthday and Christmas." She shrugged. "He and I don't really talk much, even though they got married when I was fourteen. The step-monster and I can barely look at each other; she's a gynecologist, so she constantly calling me to talk about my gynecological health. Like I want her to know anything about what's going on between my legs." Jesse choked on the mouthful of wine that he had. "Sorry, I should stop referring to my vagina on our first date." He groaned, running a hand down his face.

"You're really bad news, Beca Mitchell." Beca smiled innocently at him, which made him shake his head at her. The waiter chose that moment to harass them again, asking if they wanted any more wine and if they were ready to place their orders. "Ladies, first." He said, waving his hand to her.

"Well, then you better place your order fast, nerd, 'cause I'm hungry." He stared pointedly at her, and she just grinned at him before turning to the waiter, who was trying to remain completely professional. "I'll take the eggplant parm with spaghetti, please."

"Would you like a vegetable or a garden salad as your side?" The waiter asked as he scribbled down her order on his pad.

"Um...salad. More veggies that way, right?" She joked. "Can I get the balsamic vinaigrette on the side?" The waiter nodded and scribbled down her side order before turning to Jesse.

"For you, sir?" The waiter asked him.

"I'll take the acqua pazza and the garden salad, with the vinaigrette, as well." Jesse said the dish in perfect Italian, which made Beca cock an eyebrow at him. The waiter wondered off, a "NYU has a foreign language requirement. I took Italian. It is the language of love, right?"

"I thought that was French? Or Spanish?" He shrugged.

"I think Italian is way more romantic than French and Spanish. It's similar to Spanish, though." He said, scratching the back of his head. "I think? I dunno."

"Does it matter?" She asked him, her head cocked to the side.

"Only if you think that French or Spanish is sexier than Italian." She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, though. Is me being able to say some stuff in Italian sexy?"

She contemplated it for a moment, deciding what to say. It actually was kind of sexy when he said the dish in Italian, but if she was into the whole foreign thing, she would have fell for Julio or Luke. Luke was a Brit with killer abs. She bit her lip, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess hearing someone say something in any foreign language is kind of sexy, but if I wanted to date someone who had an accent or spoke a different language, I could date my boss again."

"Again? You dated your boss?" He frowned, which made her smile at his obvious discomfort and, dare she say it, _jealousy_.

"When we were in college. It wouldn't really be accurate to say that we dated, I guess; basically, we hooked up occasionally during that year of college and parted ways as friends. Working together now and hooking up wouldn't work, so we're just friends."

"But he's seen you naked and done things with you naked."

"I love me some naked backgammon." She said sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, c'mon. You've never hooked up with a friend?"

"I haven't had many female friends except the girls that dated my friends. Usually the only girls I hang out with that aren't dating a friend of mine are the girls that I'm interested in. So,_ no_, I haven't exactly hooked up with a friend."

"Oh..." Beca shrugged. The whole point of this stupid dare was because she hooked up too much, according to her friends, so she kind of felt weird about letting Jesse know how much of a slut she could be. Well, it's not like she slept with a guy (or girl) who breathed around her, like Stacie does, but she's not exactly innocent. "So..." She said quietly, embarrassed about him hearing something so intimate about her past. She looked away, scratching the tip of her nose.

"Beca," he said, frowning. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or something. It's just its weird to know that you and your boss have hooked up in the past. That means that he's my competition or whatever." She blushed.

"Competition?"

"Yeah, well, you said he's got an accent or speaks a foreign language, you guys used to fool around, and he's like got a legit job in the music business..." He shrugged. She chuckled.

"No. Yeah, so Luke and I've hooked up like a total of like ten or fifteen times, tops. Like every now and again during that one year of college. We're just friends now. He's like my best guy friend. Like, he could be my brother or something now."

"A brother you just happen to know if the biblical sense?" She sighed. Clearly, they weren't getting past this anytime soon.

"I said he's like my brother now. There's nothing going on with us." This was why she never told the girls that she and Luke used to fool around in college. She didn't want to deal with this kind of crap with them, and now she screwed up things with Jesse after being on a date for like five minutes.

The waiter walked up, dropping off their salads. She smiled politely at him as he put the salad in front of her and asked them if they wanted any more wine. "Yes, please." Jesse said, and the waiter left. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I just...all I was trying to say is that I don't need that kind of stuff in a guy." She said, biting her lip as she stabbed some lettuce with her salad fork. "I'm sorry. This was going so well, and then I had to go and step in it and fuck everything up. I'm not exactly good at this whole dating thing. As you can probably tell, I'm more of a have a couple of drinks and have a fun before we go our separate ways kind of girl." She winced, because that only made her sound like more of a slut.

"You're doing fine..." He said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm glad you gave me a chance for something more than a couple for drinks and some fun..." He furrowed his brow. "Well, I mean, I'm not opposed to the having some fun stuff." She chuckled, shaking her head.

"You're an idiot." She muttered. "So, before I went and fucked everything up and made shit awkward, we were talking about my parental issues. What about you? You're parents were doctors...how did you get into music and composition? Isn't being a doctor supposed to run in your family or something?"

"Um, yeah, none of my grandparents went to college, and both sides of the family were working class. My parents did really well in school and got full-rides to college. Then, they worked their way through medical school and got scholarships and financial aid and such. They met in med school, fell in love, and got married. Their families were really supportive of their pursuing med school, so my parents wanted me to follow my passion. They wanted me to be well-rounded, so they put me in piano lessons when I was three. I fell in love with it, so they threw me into any music class that I wanted to be in. I loved all of it, kept asking for more. So, when I wanted to go for music composition-even though it was something that many people don't succeed in, they helped me out. When I wanted to get my master's to make me more attractive to employers, they helped me out. They didn't have those opportunities growing up, so they wanted me to have them."

"That sounds nice." That wasn't something that Beca was used to; at least not since she was a little kid. She smiled, wishing that she had a family that was supportive and loving like that. Not that her family didn't love her, but they weren't the most supportive of her dreams and career and life in L.A. They all thought that she should be in business or medicine or teaching or whatever. They didn't think that the music business was a realistic career (despite the fact that she was _actually_ _doing_ what she loved and was getting nominated for awards).

"So, let's play a game, Beca." Jesse said, grinning. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "We'll play a version of truth or dare. Except, it's just truth, and...um...no one really wins anything aside from we say random facts about each other, and we get to know each other." He chuckled, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, then, you start." She said, digging into her salad.

"Right, well, my favorite color is yellow." He said, stabbing his salad with his fork. "Yours?" She chewed the mouthful of salad before answering him.

"Pink." He snorted, almost choking on the mouthful of food he was currently chewing on. He thought she was kidding, but she wasn't lying. "And, black. But I like hot pink. My entire bedding set is hot pink and white and black. You didn't notice the hot pink patterned throws and pillows on my couch? Or the artwork-all of the various music notes and such in hot pink and black and white? I like to wear a lot of black for work, though. It's more professional than hot pink." He stared at her for a moment, shaking his head.

"No, I was a little distracted by how amazing you looked and how insane your friends are." He told her, taking a sip of his wine. She shrugged, taking another bite of salad. "Okay, so do you have a favorite genre of music or singer or band or something?"

"I thought you were telling me things about yourself, and I was telling you something about myself."

"Okay, so I felt like asking you a question." She took another bite of her salad, which made him roll his eyes and sigh at her. "So, my favorite genre is classical. Surprise, surprise." He shrugged. "I'm a composer. Most of what I compose is instrumental; occasionally, I dabble in lyrics, but it's mainly instrumental." She nodded. "Don't have a favorite composer or period, necessarily. How about you?"

"Classical is nice. I listen to that when I need to wind down and such. Bubble baths and some Mozart is my idea of a good Sunday afternoon." She told him, making him groan at the thought of her in a bubble bath. She held back a giggle. "My favorite is jazz, though. My favorite singer of all time is Frank Sinatra, but I love any old school jazz-Ella, Nat, Bing, et cetera."

"You know, I didn't really peg you as a old school jazz chick. I thought you'd be all about Katy Perry and shit, considering what you do for a living." She shrugged.

"Yeah, I love all different kinds of music, but you asked for my favorite, and that is jazz." Beca finished up her salad, sipping her wine as she watched Jesse munch on his food. "So, nerd, tell me what your favorite movie is."

"As long as you tell me what your favorite porno is." He joked, making her laugh and roll her eyes at him. "This is like the hardest question known to man. I love all movies, even the crappiest, stupidest movies, like _Glitter_." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Mariah Carey is not an actress. That's all you need to know." She widened her eyes and nodded her head. "But if I had to pick a favorite...shit, do I really _have to_ pick a favorite?"

"Yes, you do."

"Top five?" She shook her head. "Genre?"

"I'm willing to take favorite genre, but I still want favorite movie. If I'm supposed to be subjected to this bullshit, I think I deserve to know what I'm getting myself into." He sighed.

"Fine. Favorite genre...rom-com, chick flick, whatever you want to call it." She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth in order to keep from laughing. "Don't you make fun of me! I'm a hopeless romantic who wears his heart on his sleeve. I love rom-coms. Although, sci-fi movies usually have the most fantastic scores." He frowned. "Okay, it's a tossup between rom-coms and sci-fi. Rom-coms for the lover in me, and sci-fi for the scores."

"Favorite movie." She said, taking another sip of wine. She smiled when he pouted.

"Fuck, this is hard." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can I give you my favorite director?"

"Jesse..." She sighed.

"Fine, I guess I will go with...shit..._Star Wars_? My roommate and I watched every _Star Wars_ movie about six thousand times freshman year of college. His side of the room was decorated with all things _Star Wars_. He's a cool dude. One of my best friends. He and I moved to L.A. together last year. His name's Benji."

"Uggh, does this mean I have to watch it? I mean, I know that Darth Vader is Luke's father, so..." He shook his head.

"I just..._uggh_! You not liking movies is killing me. You know that?" She chuckled.

Dinner continued much in the same fashion. Jesse went into detail about his top five favorite movies: who directed them, who produced them, when they were made, who starred in them, what the plot was like, and, _of course_, what the score or soundtrack was like. Beca was her snarky self, making fun of him and his insane obsession with movies; she especially made fun of all of his_ fun facts_ that weren't really all that fun. He would ask her about her work, why she loved jazz so much, how she became friends with the girls. She made sure to ignore any questions that he had that related to her family, which he seemed to mentally file away for later. _Fuck, this is why she didn't date people, because they can ask questions about shit she doesn't want to talk about later on_.

"So, what is this part two of the date, exactly?" She asked as they walked back to his car, their fingers interlaced like before.

"You'll see."

"Is this the part where you drive me off into the middle of nowhere, rape and murder me, and then leave my body on the side of the road?"

"Shit! You figured out my plan!" He joked as he opened the door to the passenger's seat for her. She rolled her eyes as she climbed in. "You'll see in a few minutes." She grumbled to herself about how much she hated surprises while he walked around the car and climbed into the driver's seat. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to a miniature golf course. She turned and stared at him.

"Really? Mini-golf? I'm not drunk enough for this." She told him, making him laugh. He climbed out of the car and raced around to open the door for her.

"C'mon. It'll be fun." He held a hand out to her. She sighed, allowing him to pull her from the car and lead them to get their clubs and balls. "Hot pink for you." He said, handing her the ball. "Yellow for me."

"This is a really bad idea." She muttered. She got really competitive when it came to mini-golf and bowling and things like that. The girls refused to take her to places like this anymore. Now, they pretty much only frequent restaurants, diners, clubs, and bars. Oh, and the mall. Chloe and Stacie fucking loved the mall. Beca? Yeah, not so much. She already put her foot in her mouth earlier, and she really didn't want to ruin the date over her getting insanely competitive now.

"I'll show you how to play, if you worried about that. I'm not the best at mini-golf, but I'm pretty good." She rubbed her nose frantically, making him chuckle and release her hand to wrap an arm around her waist. He pulled her flush against his side. "It'll be fun."

"Oh, yeah. So much fun." She said under her breath. They got to the first hole, and he said that she should go first. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and _showed_ her how to hold the club and to swing it. She had to admit that it wasn't that bad to have his body pressed against hers. Shit, her mind was going to the gutter...

"Go ahead." He said, stepping back, and she took a deep breath to try and calm her competitiveness. She swung the club and the ball sailed down the green and landed perfectly into the cup. She felt the buzz of excitement of getting the hole in one, and she grinned. "Great first shot! See, there's nothing to be worried about." She swallowed, because the first taste of success was pounding through her, making her buzz with competitiveness. She _had_ to win this game. Seriously, it was like an addiction. She could fully understand where addicts were coming from with their _need_ for their next fix, because she _needed _to get to the next hole and get another hole in one.

Jesse stepped up and put his ball down. He took a couple of practice shots that made Beca antsy, because she needed to get to the next hole. He lined up, and already she could tell that he wasn't going to get a hole in one from the way his body was positioned and the way that he was holding the club. He hit the ball, and it flew up the green, sailing past the hole, about an inch shy of it, and hitting the back ledge before bouncing back and rolling to a stop about a half foot from the hole.

"Bummer." He shrugged, smiling. He made his way over to the ball and sunk it into the hole on the second shot. She practically ran to the next hole, making him chuckle. "Someone's having fun." He said, as he watched her line up her next shot before hitting it, once again getting another hole in one. "Someone also lied about this being their first time playing mini-golf." He said, whistling.

"Um, actually, I never said it was my first time. I just said it was a bad idea to take me mini-golfing. I get insanely competitive. Like the girls refuse to take me to anything like this anymore." She bit her lip; the corners of her mouth quirked up innocently, and he grinned in response.

"Well, I'm prepared to be destroyed." He said, putting his golf ball down. He was about to take the shot when she stopped him.

"Wait! You're going to have a shitty game if you do it like that." She walked over to him to poke him in the stomach. Her own stomach clenched when she felt nothing but what appeared to be nicely muscled abs beneath his shirt. "Should I show you?" He cocked an eyebrow at her before slightly nodding his head at her. She walked around him, helping him to reposition himself before stepping back, letting him take the shot. This time, he got a hole in one, and he grinned, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You're a good teacher." He whispered into her ear, making her blush. They spent the rest of the game being entirely too handsy with one another, _helping_ each other before they would take a shot. She purposely grazed his butt several times when she was helping him get into position, or would grind her butt against the front of him when he was helping her, smiling at the groans that would vibrate through his chest against her back. He got her back, though, by smacking her butt at one point as she was hitting the ball, so that she wound up lobbing it horribly.

Beca was amazed to see that she wasn't being controlled by her competitiveness with this game. Or, she was, but the competition was less about the game and more about who could mess with the other person the most without getting _too_ handsy. She found herself having a lot of fun on her date with Jesse, which was not something she was expecting. As they walked back to the car, her purse vibrated for what seemed like the umpteenth time, and she groaned, digging her cell phone out. She had seven missed calls (one from her dad, one from her mom, and five from Aubrey) and twenty-nine text messages.

"Jesus. These people are insane." She muttered as she scrolled through the texts. Seven were work-related from Luke. Six were from Stacie who was recounting in detail about the sex that Chloe had that night as Chloe apparently told her and Aubrey about it. The last text from Stacie was about how she was all hot and bothered by Chloe so that she called Jesse's friend, Donald, and they were going to meet up at his place to fuck. "Apparently, Stacie is hooking up with your friend Donald again. He apparently does this thing where-"

"Stop right there. I don't want to know." He said, holding a hand up at her. She laughed at the look of disgust on his face. She went back to her texts. Six were from Chloe, who apologized about Stacie (who apparently said she was telling Beca all about the sex that Chloe had) and about Aubrey's calls and texts (the rest of the texts-all eighteen of them-were from Aubrey), as well as a couple of sweet messages about how she hoped Beca was having fun. Basically all of Aubrey's texts were about how she better remember the details of the dare, as well as why wasn't Beca responding to any of her texts or phone calls. Apparently, Aubrey assumed that that meant that Beca was being a whore and violating the rules of the dare.

Beca frowned, sending a text to Aubrey and Chloe that she and Jesse were on their way back to her apartment, before she shoved her phone back into her purse. She had actually forgotten about the dare for a while. She was just enjoying spending time with a great guy on a surprisingly fun date. "Penny for your thoughts?" She jumped when she saw that he was glancing over at her from the driver's seat.

"My friends are just crazy. That's all. Plus, my parents called, and when my dad calls, there's usually an argument that results in me not speaking to him for two weeks." She shrugged.

"Okay, well, we're almost at your place..." He said, and she couldn't help but feel disappointed. It appeared that he was, too, because he slowed down and started making random turns so that it would take them longer to get to her apartment. It made her smile to herself.

"I had fun tonight, nerd. You're a surprisingly good time." She said after a few minutes of driving in a comfortable silence.

"Thank you. I'm an even better time in bed, which you will learn soon enough." She opened her mouth to say something, but she noticed that he had finally arrived at her apartment, pulling into one of the empty spaces along the street there. She shut her mouth, because_ what the hell was she supposed to say in response to that_? Well, she thought about telling him what she would like him to do with his tongue when he does get her into bed, but that wouldn't exactly be appropriate, and it would get her in trouble where it comes to the dare, because she was already having a hard enough time with not fucking him in the front seat of his car at this point, and they had only hung out with each other for not even four hours. Adding in a conversation about having sex with each other wasn't going to help her any.

"I would invite you up, but the girls are still there, so I guess we'll have to save that for later." She said, deciding that was the best way to go about it. "I would also kiss you goodnight, but I distinctly remember something about you're not the kind of guy who kisses on first date." She smiled at him sweetly. "You have a lovely evening, Jesse Swanson." She unbuckled her seat belt and glanced out the car window to make sure no one was driving by at that moment before she opened the door. She heard his huff as she climbed out and walked around his car, headed towards the door to her apartment complex.

"What the-" She heard as the door to his car flew open, and there was the muffled curse as he attempted to climb out of the car before he had removed his seat belt. She was halfway up her walkway when she heard the sound of his car door slam, and she made it two or three steps forward before she felt his hand wrap around her upper arm so that she was yanked around to face him, pulled flush against his chest. "I'm more than willing to make an exception." He muttered, closing the distance between them to kiss her. _Hard_.

Beca Mitchell knew two things in that moment: one, Jesse Swanson was a fantastic kisser; and, two, she was in _deep shit_, because she was finding herself falling hard for this guy. He was too perfect. There had to be something wrong with him, because no guy was this fantastic. Even his annoying obsession with movies and his weird sense of humor (like the marriage and baby thing, because _fuck no-_-she was never having babies)-everything about him that was actually annoying and unattractive was actually rather endearing.

The kiss was highly inappropriate to be done in the middle of the walkway up to her apartment complex. His fingers of one hand were digging into her waist, whereas his other hand was tangled into hair at the back of her head. She met the kiss with as much vigor, standing on her toes to be closer to him, her own arms wrapped firmly around his neck. She could feel her heart pounding within her chest, and she was sure that he could feel it through the layer of their clothing. The scruff of a beard was scratching against her skin, rubbing her chin cheeks slightly raw. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think about how she was going to have beard burn, but she was too caught up in the kiss to worry about it then. When air became a problem, she pulled her face back, breathing heavily. He slipped his hand from her hair, making her wince and suck in a deep breath when his fingers got caught in some of the locks of her hair. "Sorry," he muttered, pressing a light kiss to her lips as he tried to smooth some of her hair back into place.

"It's okay." She whispered in response. She started to inch her hands away from his neck, but he squeezed her hips with both of his hands, keeping her close to him.

"I don't want to let go yet." He said, leaning his forehead against hers. She smiled at him, rolling her eyes half-heartedly. "You taste good." He kissed her again, biting on her bottom lip, making her moan quietly and dig her fingers into his shoulders.

"Not fair," she told him when he released her bottom lip. She started to kiss him again, but he stopped the kiss only after a few moments. She frowned.

"We have an audience." He told her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Chloe and Aubrey had their noses pressed against the glass of the doorway. She sighed heavily, facing forward once again.

"Uggh! If you don't leave now, we'll never hear the end of it. You won't make it out of my apartment alive." He chuckled.

"I would die a happy man." He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. "Well, I'd be happier if we could spend some more time together, but this was a great first date, I'd say."

"I'd agree...I guess." She said, rolling her eyes.

"You guess?" He pouted, his bottom lip jutting out. She laughed, rising onto her toes to press a light kiss to his bottom lip. He smiled at her, rubbing his nose against hers. "When can I see you again? Soon?"

"This weekend some time, I think?" She said, scratching the back of her head.

"Saturday? Perfect movie day. We could do a late lunch or something and do a movie marathon." He said, looking like a little kid with a giant grin on his face. She groaned, pouting. "Fine, one movie, then." He said, hanging his head.

"I think that one movie is enough for my first movie in years." She said, earning a shy smile from him. "We will work out the time later." Her phone started buzzing, and she guessed that it was probably from Aubrey. "Uggh, I better go."

"Goodnight, Beca." He pressed a final kiss to her lips. "I will talk to you soon." He stepped away from her, finally releasing her from his arms. She smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Jesse." She said, watching him climb into his car once again and start it up. She waved goodbye as he pulled into the street and started to drive away. She turned around and walked up the rest of the walkway to the door. The door flew open, and she was met with Aubrey's tense face and Chloe's beaming one.

"That was a hot kiss! Did you have fun? When are you guys hanging out again? Are you getting married? Seriously, that was a hot kiss!" Chloe said, as she pulled Beca through the door.

Aubrey, on the other hand, did not look as excited for her. "What the hell was that? You looked like you were about to have sex with him in the middle of the sidewalk. If we weren't here, would you have brought him upstairs and broke the rules of the dare? Seriously, though. Act your age, Beca! You're almost thirty."

"Almost thirty?" Beca rolled her eyes. "I'm twenty-six. For like three days." She pushed past them towards the elevator. Chloe was chattering on and on about how great they looked together and how she couldn't wait to hear about the date. Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her purse to glance at it. She smiled when she saw that it was another text from Jesse.

_12:12 AM Tue, April 23  
From: The Nerd_

_I had an amazing time tonight, Beca. I look forward to our next date. xoxo_


End file.
